All the King's Men
by Rainbowscape
Summary: It's hard to put something broken together again. Carter never let anyone get too close. Her life is disrupted by Rosie, the optimistic princess in hiding won't stop asking questions, forcing Carter to face her fears of the past. Prequel/Expansion/Sequel
1. Prologue: Trust & Shattered

**Disclaimer:** Princess Protection Program and its characters belong to the Disney Channel and are borrowed here for the purposes of free entertainment. (September 2009)

**Tagline:** If one girl can make a difference, two can save the world.

* * *

_PROLOGUE: Trust_

"What's a pal, Dad?"

The neighbors cooed at the lovely, dark-haired child with the huge dark brown eyes and the petite frame, but the child took no note. She only had eyes for her father. She followed him around the yard, jogging to keep up with his long stride. Her long dark curls were pulled back into a ponytail. She was dressed in cranberry-colored corduroys and a pink T-shirt. She brushed at his pant leg and this time Joe Mason heard his daughter's question.

"Daaaad! What's a pal?"

Carter was always inquisitive. The adults towered over her head, but she felt completely at ease at this backyard barbecue. She felt completely at ease because she was standing beside the hero she adored the most in the world.

Mason wrinkled his forehead, realizing the question sprang from a phone call he'd had with a college buddy. He hadn't been aware she was paying attention. Carter had walked into the kitchen during the tail end of his conversation as he'd been saying, "Yeah. That sounds great. Later, pal." Mason grinned at his daughter. At three years old, everything was still very new to her. "It means buddy or chum," he explained carefully. "It means you hang out and do stuff together. It means you trust, no matter what, you're always there for each other."

Carter's mouth formed into a large _O_ at this answer. She took another huge bite of her burger. Mustard squirted out the sides of the bun and dripped to the plate she was currently hugging with the side of her arm. Both hands were absorbed in tackling the beef patty and its bun. The young girl's face held a look of determination. When her dad got a burger, she had insisted on getting a burger too, undaunted by the fact that the burger was almost the size of her head. And when he squirted mustard on it, she also wanted mustard. Not to mention a whole dill pickle. The pickle was devoured first and the burger was rapidly heading towards the same fate.

She had an eyebrow cocked and her lips were frowning even as she chewed heartily on her food. Mason knew his daughter, so he waited, the corners of his mouth twitching. He could almost see the light bulb click on over her head. The chewing halted. Carter's face burst into a smile. "That's like me 'n' you, Dad!"

Mason grinned. In the girl's excitement at this discovery, the paper plate flipped completely out of her arms and fell to the grass below, spattering Carter's face and the front of her shirt in the process. Despite this mishap, she didn't relinquish her hold on her burger. Mason grabbed a few napkins and knelt to gently wipe the mustard juice from her face. "Yeah." He laughed and gave her a peck on the forehead. "It's you and me, pal."

"You 'n' me, Dad," Carter's baby voice returned. "Always? Pwomise? Shake on it?"

It was all Mason could do to keep from bending over in laughter. He held his breath and took the hand that was offered. At last, he composed himself enough to say. "I promise. Always."

Over the years, the handshake grew into a complex secret combination of motions, but the words and the sentiment behind them never changed.

* * *

**THREE YEARS LATER...**

**_The Kingdom of Costa Luna, Palace Grounds_**

She wanted to follow.

The eyes looking at her were brown, like her own, but brighter. The smile in the boy's chubby face was infectious. He raised his arm and waved.

Her pink lips curled up in answer to the wave of that beckoning finger. The finger paused and then covered over that mischievous smirk he wore as if hiding a secret.

She had to follow.

Before she knew it, she had taken a step, followed by another, until she had reached the crumbling palace wall. Now, standing by the stone wall, she could no longer see that grinning face, but she heard a laugh. Heading towards the musical sound, she followed the worn sandy-colored stones to the right. At last, she came to a gap where the surrounding vegetation had broken through the wall completely. She pushed aside a few prickly green vines, tossed the few tendrils of copper brown hair that had escaped from their yellow ribbons away from her forehead, and peered through the opening.

Now, she had a clearer view of the dark-haired boy. At first, it seemed he had forgotten her. He was looking off gravely into the distance at something that had caught his attention in the trees. But once he looked her way again, he perked up, and nodded to her. He had moved a few feet back from the wall. The front of his red shirt was moving! No, that wasn't it. Something underneath the shirt was squirming. She heard whimpering.

Her eyes widened in surprise.

She watched in fascination as the boy tugged at the top of his shirt, opening a few buttons, and a fuzzy head poked out the front and barked. The boy's grin grew bigger and he took several steps back onto a small dirt path, stopped and waited for her.

Oh, how she wanted to follow! She was at the point of gathering up her skirts to squeeze her way through the gap, and over the dusty stones, when the worried cry came on the breeze.

"Princesa!"

Her shoulders drooped. Her absence had been discovered. Maybe if she pretended not to hear.

Another call reached her ears. "Mija! Mija!"

Not only had her absence been discovered, but her own mother was coming in search of her.

The boy hadn't heard the cries. He beckoned once more, impatiently this time.

"Princesa Rosalinda, ven acá." The tone was urgent, and not a request. Pulling herself away from the wall, Rosalinda saw her mother standing on the hill above and looking very rigid. From the posture, she knew her mother would take no excuses. Rosalinda needed to come right away.

The boy heard as well and his grin faded. He started to turn away, and then paused to look back at her uncertainly.

Taking a final look through the gap, Rosalinda shrugged apologetically. No matter how lovely a day, wandering outside alone all the way to the perimeter of the palace is not a good thing to do. It is even worse when you are the princess, late for your lessons, and only have six years to your name.

The boy shrugged back. He turned and hurried up the path towards the trees, taking that adorable, cuddly bundle with him.

With a sigh, the princess ran up the hill to her mother, expecting to get every bit of the scolding she deserved. She wasn't prepared to be wrapped in a warm embrace or to hear the relieved sigh her mother let out. "Lo siento. ¿Estás enojada, mamá?" Rosalinda questioned. The wet tears that Rosalinda felt on her mother's cheek answered the query. Her mother was shaking not with fury, but fear.

The princess frowned in confusion. The silence made her tense. "I was trying to make a new friend," Rosalinda explained, switching to English, for this was the lesson for which she was late. Perhaps it would cheer her mother to know she was doing well with it. Her instructor said if she kept practicing she would be able to speak English without a notable accent.

"That boy was not a true friend, mija!" answered the Queen with vehemence, releasing Rosalinda's shoulders, but clutching her hands. "Look there!"

Rosalinda turned and gazed down the hill. From this elevation, she could see over the wall and her eyes could follow the path the boy had taken. In fact, she could still make out his retreating back. Just as the boy's form was about to disappear into the trees, she caught a glimpse of them. Other forms, shadows in the forest, and she knew from the way her mother had cried that they had been waiting for her. Suddenly, she realized the boy's grin had only been a lure to draw her away from the safety of the palace courtyards. Young as she was, she already knew the stories of young children carried off by villains, never to return to their homes. Even now, the royal guardsman could be heard scouring the woods after the intruders.

"You must be careful, mija. Always careful. Remember, you are the princess of Costa Luna. A princess can never be certain who can be trusted, can never know who her true friends are. You can trust me and your papa, but you must always be on your guard. Never forget."

She shivered at her mother's words. It was the first time she had ever felt the threat of danger come into her young life, and it was not to be the last.

* * *

_Chapter 1: Shattered_

**_Lake Monroe, Louisiana_**

**_USA_**

The sound of a purring engine reverberated through the house like a tiny earthquake.

Carter jerked awake, her covers falling to the floor as she kicked them aside. An impending sense of doom washed over her. She took a deep breath, suddenly wide awake, and listened. The unsettling noise faded away into the distance.

Now, it was too quiet. She had fallen asleep clutching her plush bear, listening to the loud shouts, stomping feet, and angry voices downstairs. She pulled the sheets over her head to muffle the noises.

Her parents were arguing again. It had been happening more frequently lately. Often, when she walked into the room they would fall strangely silent. Carter missed the banter and lightheartedness of bygone years. She missed the laughter. At dinnertime, the conversation now focused on Carter. How was her day at school? When was that field trip coming up?

As much as she always had basked in attention from her parents, these times were different. There was something forced about the questions and false about the smiles. It did not escape her attention that her parents did not address each other directly. Neither did the averted looks nor the sullen timbres of their voices. Carter had always been quick to read body language and the book she had been reading most often lately was unhappiness. Carter felt the pressure to keep dinnertime at some level of normality. She pretended nothing had changed. Last night the pressure had overwhelmed her and she gave up trying.

It was the dress that made her snap. For kindergarten and first grade picture day, her mother had dressed Carter in an elaborate dress. It was one with ribbons and bows and long skirts. Sometimes, there were even sequins. The dress material, always an impossibly pastel color, stained easily making recess time an elementary student's waking nightmare. Tights inevitably accompanied the dresses and itched terribly. In a dress, climbing trees or making mud pies definitely became a huge no-no. This year the second-grader protested the very first mention of a dress. "No!"

"Carter, for the last time, you'll be so pretty."

"No, I won't wear it!"

"But it's a beautiful dress and Picture Day is this week…"

"I don't wanna wear a dress!" Carter wailed.

"You'll look like a princess!"

"I don't wanna look like a princess. I wanna look like me. I like being me. Not some dumb princess."

"Would you wear the dress please? For me?"

Carter's arms crossed her chest stubbornly. "I won't wear the dress. And I don't like you!"

He had stayed out of it until now. "Hold on," her dad interjected. "It's just pictures. She dresses herself now. Why don't we just let her wear what she wants? And listen, pal, don't shout at your mother like that, okay?"

"Okay."

Silence fell upon the table.

Her father had managed to subdue the disagreement, but Carter had lost her appetite.

She poked her fork into the meatball on her plate. "May I be excused?" Frown lines appeared on her mother's face, but her dad nodded. Carter pushed her chair back from the table and escaped to the confines of her room, avoiding the kitchen and the living areas for the rest of the night. She kept herself as busy as possible and tried to ignore the battlefront that was her home.

This morning was different. Dead silence reigned over the entire house and the creaking floorboards felt out of place when Carter headed down the stairs only to find an empty kitchen. Dressed for school, Carter sported a pair of jeans and a purple t-shirt with a huge sunflower on the front.

_No breakfast today, huh_? On Monday mornings, the smell of her mother's cooking customarily pervaded the kitchen. The absence of the smells of bacon and eggs added to the disturbing silence of the house. Carter grabbed the old standby cereal container from the cupboard and a carton of milk from the fridge. She breakfasted on Cheerios, peanut butter on bread, and orange juice.

She knew it the moment he appeared at the door. Something was wrong.

"Where's Mom?"

Her dad simply shrugged, taking one step inside the doorway to further reveal the empty space behind him.

Confused, Carter quirked an eyebrow. "When is she coming back?"

Her dad stared at her for a long moment. Something was _very_ wrong.

"She's not." He turned away quickly and went out the door. She felt the breeze as the door slammed in his wake.

Carter clenched her fists. A lump formed in her throat and the corners of her eyes began to sting. She sniffed to keep back the tears that threatened to fall. Tears would make it real. And it couldn't be real.

It had to be some mistake. Her mother's apron still hung from its peg. The lace doilies and scented candles still adorned the tabletop, the latter wafting out the odors of pumpkin spice and cinnamon.

She ran to her parents' room and called out at the top of her lungs. "Mom! Mom! Mommy!" Because this was a joke and at any moment her mother would pop out of the closet and apologize for scaring her. Doubt trickled into her voice. "Mom? This isn't funny."

The sound of the motor of her dad's truck revving made her jump and run back to the kitchen and out the door, climbing down the steps just in time to see her dad driving away. Even more disturbing, the space where her mother's car typically parked was vacant. Tire indentations in the muddy gravel proclaimed its absence.

Carter's heart froze in her chest.

Her car wasn't here.

She wasn't here.

_She wasn't here_.

Carter felt betrayed and alone and afraid. For the briefest of moments, a new fear clutched at her heart and caused her to hold her breath.

Maybe her dad wasn't coming back either.

She took a breath and let it out again, forcing the fear away. "He always comes back. Always." She breathed out a determined sigh. "He promised."

The honking of the yellow school bus to signal its arrival sent Carter flying back into the house.

When the bus pulled up in the lane, Carter reappeared. She climbed onto the bus, toting her backpack and sat stoically in a seat. Because somehow, the world kept spinning even when an earthquake has shaken its very foundations and broken everything inside.

* * *

She hated it when she lost control.

Bull was mostly harmless. Sure, he was at great sports, but when it came to planning, his thought process was rather slow. Someone must have put him up to this stunt, because the boy wouldn't think up something like this on his own. The entire school knew how gullible he could be. The boy had a weakness. He liked looking tough in front of his friends. He was a follower, not a leader.

None of that mattered today. When he approached her in the hallway, she should have kept on walking. When he launched the first taunt, she should have confronted the smirking group that stood watching from the bank of lockers at the end of the hall.

The fact was not lost on Carter that no one passing in the hall stopped to defend her.

He was in her face now, and the second verbal barb he threw hit and cut deep. Her whole body tensed. She felt her fist clench and felt it connect with his face. The surprised gasps from the students in the hall were not louder than hers.

Bull toppled back and sprawled on the tiled floor.

The rumor mill had spun all summer and into the new school year, twisting the story of the Mason's family breakup into an ugly and pale imitation of the truth. This year Carter had become one of the quiet ones; the sad-eyed girl who chose to sit closer to the rear of the classroom. No one had expected her to be a fighter.

Pain started to spread across the knuckles of her hand. It didn't match the pain she was feeling inside. "Take it back!" Carter said, between gritted teeth. "Take back what you said. Take it back!" she shouted.

The words had hurt her. She wanted him to take them back. She wanted the hurting to stop.

Stunned, Bull was writhing on the floor of the hall, cupping his nose with his hand, grunting infrequently, but saying nothing at all. His so-called friends, the instigators of this entire situation, had split at the first sign of trouble.

A hand clapped over Carter's shoulder. Carter turned and raised her head to stare into the face of a frowning faculty member. The next words she heard didn't surprise her.

"Principal's office. Now!"

* * *

Carter glared at the floor as her father settled into the seat to the left of her. Her hands played with the black strap of her yellow backpack. It was bulging with her textbooks and workbooks, resting on the floor to the right, awaiting the drive home.

School policy stated that Carter's actions resulted in mandatory suspension. The counselor had bandied around words like "provocation," and "first offense" all of which added up to the fact that Carter would be able to return to school on Monday.

"What happened, Carter?"

She flinched upon hearing her name. Carter shut her eyes, trying to shield herself from seeing the disappointment in her dad's eyes that she clearly heard in his voice. She tried to think of how to begin, but the words escaped her. He didn't really need the blow by blow details. Moments ago, he had heard the story from her principal and the school counselor inside the office.

Apparently, he hadn't heard enough to be satisfied. "You really punched that boy?"

Here was the opportunity to explain her side of things. Half a dozen words sprang to Carter's tongue, but her mouth felt dry. She choked out one syllable. "Yeah."

"Why?"

Her second attempt at speech fared better. "You wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

"He said that she…she hated and that you…that we…" Carter sputtered, stumbling over the words. Carter's mind went over the insults again; her mind focusing on the one that had hurt the worst. Words always hurt the most when they seem to ring true. "He said we weren't a family anymore."

"Do you believe that?"

Dark brown eyes brooded seriously. Carter released the hold on her backpack and crossed her arms over her chest.

He spoke again. "Listen to me. We are a family. We will always be a family. Nothing can ever change that. We don't stop being a family. Not even after—"

"What happened," Carter cut him off. She wasn't ready to talk about _her_.

"When someone says something, no matter what it is. No matter how stupid, how hurtful, never retaliate in anger. When you lose your temper, you can end up losing much more than that and you always pay the consequences." He shifted the subject and stood up, facing her. "Listen, I've been busy lately, but I'm doing the best that I can. I'll be making some changes. We need a fresh start. You got to be with me on this. We'll be honest with each other. No lies. Got it?"

Carter stood also, pulling her backpack up onto her shoulder. "Got it."

* * *

Late Monday afternoon, Carter stepped off the school bus and ran inside.

Her backpack fell to the floor as Carter stood looking around in confusion. For months, nothing had changed. It was as if the normal ebb and flow of life had been suspended in a bubble. Her mother was gone, but everything belonging to her had remained unchanged.

Not anymore.

The frills and the lace and the pink tablecloths were gone. No doilies. No candles. Carter sniffed the air. Even the familiar scent had evaporated.

The apron peg was empty.

For a moment, it felt like she was being abandoned all over again.

Carter blinked and looked again. Repeatedly, the difference struck her. It was like her mother had been erased from existence.

Carter's hands balled up into fists as she stared at the boxes piled in the middle of the room.

Was this what her father meant when he said they needed a fresh start? Was this what he wanted?

Slowly, she made a decision. Running to her room, she immediately snatched her storybooks from the bookshelf, grabbed her plastic tea set, and threw these items on the bed. Then, she opened her closet and grabbed the party dresses her mother had so meticulously kept for her. She pulled open drawers, slid lids off shoe boxes, and ransacked her shelves in order to add items to the growing pile on her bed. She ran frantically back and forth in this wild activity and when she finished she was panting. Carter paused to catch her breath. Finally, she pulled out a giant cardboard box and with a few sweeps, pushed the mountain on her bed into the box.

Without a second look, she closed the box. Blowing out a puff of air, she sat down to rest on her bed. She scanned her work. Now, her room mirrored the rest of the house. The traces, the painful reminders were gone.

As if they had faded from existence. As if _she_ no longer existed.

The tomboy dragged the box down the hall into the living room and left it in the middle of the floor.

Then, she waited, anxious and tense, on the couch.

When her dad finally entered the room and spotted the box, he froze in his tracks.

Slowly, he stepped over to it and examined it. His eyes met hers in a questioning gaze that required no words.

_Are you sure?_

Carter opened her mouth, but no coherent response came to her tongue. She simply nodded quickly.

It was all the confirmation he needed. Mason picked up the box, and whisked it away to join the other items already banished from sight.

Several minutes later, Carter joined him in the kitchen.

Water flowed from the sink as he washed his hands. He turned off the tap and began wiping his palms dry with a towel. "So, what do you want for dinner?" His tone was bright. She appreciated his effort to cheer things up.

Carter cast a doubtful look at the stove. For the first time in months, a smile lit up her face. Though cooking had always been her mother's forte, her father was still king of the grill. She smiled up at her dad. With all the exuberance and enthusiasm of her former three-year old self, she said, "Burgers!"

For the first time in ages, Mason laughed. "Burgers, it is!"

After dinner, her dad was sitting on the porch steps. She climbed down next to him and leaned her head against his shoulder. He put his arm around her. "It's just you and me, pal," he said at last.

Other words remained unspoken as if they had silently agreed never to speak that name willingly; to never evoke the painful memory again.

"You and me, Dad," Carter whispered. It was a wonderful night. The crickets were chirping incessantly. The waves sloshed against the dock. Dewdrops formed on the grass. Life was flowing forward.

They were still a family.

Maybe things could start to be normal again.

A buzzing sound interrupted the comfortable silence. The sound issued from her father's watch. She watched him curiously as he frowned and silenced it.

Mason cleared his throat. "Pal, I think it's about time to tell you about what I _really_ do."

* * *

**_A/N:_**_ Time to explore the backgrounds of Rosie and Carter's lives, how their friendship develops, and how they become agents for the Princess Protection Program. It's a prequel/story expansion/sequel all in one. This idea wouldn't let me go and I'm thrilled to share it with you, readers. I love feedback, reviews, comments etc and I freely admit these encourage me to write. I accept anonymous ones too. Hope you enjoy the adventure!  
_


	2. Worlds Apart

_Shout outs to Evangeline Vera, letscall-l, i am indistructible, and Mmakkii. Thanks so much for taking the time to share your comments since my last update. It gives me warm fuzzies:)(11/1/2009)_

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* * *

_

_Chapter 2: Worlds Apart_

Carter frowned. "But where are you going?"

"That's classified."

Eyes rolled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

A cheerful smirk appeared on Mason's face. "It means, if I told you, then I'd have to—"

"Ha, ha, ha. Oh. You are so going to get it." Carter charged but found herself raised aloft and spinning in circles. She stubbornly refused to surrender until she was almost too dizzy to stand up straight.

Thus, transpired the extent of the excitement at discovering her dad to be a secret agent, but being pinky sworn to secrecy.

He left the next day on a top secret assignment somewhere in a kingdom far, far away leaving Carter saddled with a babysitter and school.

Her life was no fairy tale.

* * *

**_Royal Palace_**

**_The Kingdom of Costa Luna_**

"_Dimitri! ¿Quien es el hombre? __¿Alguien importante?"_

In answer to this whisper shout, a man with an olive complexion and dark, short curls raised his head to look upwards. He ran a hand through his locks while his dark eyes sought the source of the question. His white gloved hands contrasted with the dusty blue uniform and dark boots traditionally worn by all higher ranked members of the Costa Luna Royal Guard.

The staircase of the palace wound its way above, crossing over the edge of the hall below before descending once more on the opposite wall. He had to crane his neck, but his gaze caught the pale curve of a familiar chin and cheek in the shadows along with two hands resting on the banister.

_"No, princesa. No te preocupes." _He exhaled, knowing that in spite of his reassurances to the contrary, the princess would worry. The precocious child knew far more about current affairs of state than even her parents suspected. She kept her eyes and ears open, drinking in even the tiniest details and knitting her strings of stolen whispers and eavesdropped gems into a patchwork quilt of suppositions that hit surprisingly close to the truth sometimes.

This double staircase, with its numerous ornate banisters and myriads of shadows and shady corners, continued to be one of the princesa's favorite places to lurk.

_Little spy._

"Your father has many important meetings scheduled for today. These are things you do not need to concern you, princesa. You are far too young and these serious matters should not cloud your pretty face."

Silence followed as the eight-year old pondered his words. Then, Rosalinda let exactly such a cloud form as she pulled her lips into a pout of protest. "If you would only tell me, Dimitri. What is so important? And why can I not meet our guests?" Her supper had been sent up to her suite, three days in a row. How rare an occurrence for her presence not to be requested! Whenever important dignitaries visited Costa Luna, Rosalinda had grown accustomed to being presented to them at dinner in the Great Hall. No explanation had been offered for this strange omission. Enough was enough. She wanted to know who this strange visitor or visitors could be.

Dimitri must tell her!

Footsteps approached and the guard's attention shifted to someone she could not see.

Confident that Dimitri would not betray her position, Rosalinda felt no need to move. She had learned much about the palace staff and individual guards by observation, studying their movements and personalities the way a scientist observes an experiment. Dimitri tolerated her antics as long as she didn't press him too far. If she embarrassed him, however, it would be an entirely different matter.

So she kept quiet.

A man's unfamiliar voice floated up to Rosalinda, but the princess could not see the speaker from her crouched position by the banister. The man spoke English, but it clearly was not his native tongue. "You look like a man with vision. May I speak with you?"

At this flattering address, the guardsman shrugged and proceeded to ignore the princess. Dimitri nodded and walked towards the speaker, gesturing towards a direction away from the stairwell and said, "I have a little time."

Dimitri left her line of sight.

Rosalinda sighed from her listening post. She could not see the stranger who had addressed Dimitri from her position and now the two were walking out of earshot to a chamber where she had no secret listening places. The clopping sound of military-like (rhythmic but quick paced) footsteps echoed and faded. Burning with curiosity, Rosalinda still would not test Dimitri's patience nor risk her father's displeasure by following where she was uninvited.

Dimitri's departure left her without any answers. It also left the stairs and the surrounding hall temporarily unguarded. Her eyes swept the area below. She rose, releasing her hold on the banister and slipped quietly down the stairs.

What harm could there be in snooping?

Seizing the opportunity, the princess turned toward the conference chambers. The big council chamber where the royal advisers and other important visitors met for conferences that often lasted hours was certain to be teeming with life, but the adjoining chamber belonging exclusively to the king might be vacant.

"You wear the colors of Costa Luna quite well. You understand how important it is that your true identity remain a secret."

"Of course, Your Majesty. It is important to us as well."

It could also be occupied by the king.

Her heart thudded. Warned by the sound of voices in mid-conversation, Rosalinda padded softly through the secret entrance to this chamber and froze behind a large potted plant.

The voices were nearly on top of her.

Rosalinda held her breath. She recognized her father's voice immediately. "The man is an irritant, but he is the leader of Costa Estrella. The means by which he came into power are questionable, but because Costa Estrella is our nearest neighbor, I cannot deny his visits to my country. At least, not without adding fuel to his fire."

The green foliage was too lush to see the other man's face, but his voice sounded undoubtedly American. "Does he frequently come here?"

"Not at all. The process by which he gains a permit to enter Costa Luna is very tedious. There is much more to do if he wishes to extend his stay for any length. He is an arrogant man with little patience for procedures. It keeps his time in Costa Luna to a minimum."

"You believe he poses a threat."

"No doubt. While I am strong, there is nothing to fear, but one day that may not be the case. When the snake raises his head to strike, I want to be prepared. "

"I understand that, but I am curious, Your Majesty. No one would deny Costa Luna's eligibility to be enrolled in the program, but why did you specifically request my presence?"

"I am old-fashioned. I still believe in the power of a man's word. Only a man with a treasure just as precious to lose fully understands the importance of protecting it."

"You read my file."

"I do my research. If you give me your word to handle the matter personally, I will believe you."

There was no hesitation. "You have my word."

"Oh, and one more thing...."

The voices receded away from her position. Rosalinda opened her mouth and took a small breath. The conversation puzzled her, who was the American and what treasure did her father trust him to protect?

There was a creak, followed by a boom. The ancient doors of the palace were never content to open and close quietly.

Stiff from sitting still next to the potted plant, the princess rose quickly. The top of her head brushed an overhanging leaf and it began to shake. The movement traveled down the stalk, setting all the leaves dancing.

"Rosita!" She jumped when a voice bellowed behind her. "_¿_Que estás haciendo?"

The princess turned to meet a surprised gaze. Her cheeks flushed red. "Hola, Papá."

* * *

_**Lake Monroe, Louisiana**_

_** USA**_

"How'd you get these so fast?"

"Help out the photography teacher," Ed explained. "Get to use the lab whenever I want."

Carter studied the stack of photos, turning slightly to keep the wind from blowing dust into her eyes.

"So," Ed prompted, kicking the gravel with his shoe toe. "What do ya think?"

"Nobody's looking at the camera," Carter criticized, handing the photos back to him.

"That's the point," the lanky, dark-haired boy explained. "They're candids. To capture things as they actually are. Poses are fake. These are real, you know?"

"I guess." _And also kinda stalkerish_.

"You'll see. I have some of you."

_Stalkerish and creep_—His comment fully registered and Carter went from indifferent to indignant. "What?" Dark eyes flashed. Eyebrows flew up. She turned her body so abruptly that her heavy backpack practically collided with the boy.

Carter growled. "Hand them over!"

Ed dodged, taking two steps back, and cowered. Raising one hand in surrender, he reached with the other into his far jean pocket. He retrieved a crumpled white envelope, and then removed the prints it held. "Here. They're right here!"

Carter snatched the glossy prints from his fingers. She leafed quickly through them.

Then, she saw it. A snapshot of the school gymnasium. Her eyes picked out her own blurred profile in the midst of a cheering crowd. It was enough. Concrete evidence proving the happenings at school today were not a rare daydream or figment of her runaway imagination. Her mind rewound and played everything back.

* * *

It had started off so painfully simple.

Gym class. The basketball unit.

The class got divided into two teams. By some fluke, Bull and Donny both ended up captaining a team at the same time a dispute had arisen between the two boys. Competition raged. Scores were kept. By Friday, the question of which team was winning remained hazy.

Carter couldn't breathe.

If she'd harbored any doubts about whether Bull held a grudge, they had vanished when she saw the boy charging across the basketball court. Staring at the ball in her hands, Carter momentarily wished she wasn't on the opposing team.

It felt like she'd been hit by a truck.

Then, the shock of the pain lifted partially and a ragged breath managed to gift her lungs with air, carrying with it enough oxygen to allow her brain to form a coherent thought.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

And exhale.

Breathe.

It was working. Glittery lights ceased to dance before her eyes to be replaced by the harsh, florescent lights of the gymnasium ceiling.

The hard floor radiated cold. The cold hit the back of her neck, her elbows, and her thighs.

A shrill whistle blew drowning out all other sounds. "Foul!" roared the gym teacher at the top of her lungs. "Mason? Mason?" Miss Taylor belonged to the breed of gym teachers that believed in calling students by last names even if it wasn't printed on the backs of their jersey and even if, as in Carter's case, the students simply dressed in t-shirts and shorts. Gym uniforms were not in the budget. "Mason?" prompted the teacher once more.

Carter shivered and slowly stirred to life. She pushed herself up into a sitting position and leaned forward until her forehead was against her knees. Out the corner of her eye, she could see the basketball that had been so rudely knocked from her grasp still rocking slightly.

Miss Taylor wasn't content until she got a verbal response. "You okay?"

Carter forced herself to stand. "I'm okay," she managed to gasp and even before the final word had left her mouth, Miss Taylor blew the earsplitting whistle again.

"Alright, class! Listen up. That's it. Next week. Volleyball unit begins."

Frowns rippled over faces and grumbles erupted from the class as a whole. Donny's team deserved to get their free throw. This uncharacteristic rivalry between Bull and Donny might never end if they weren't allowed to see this through to the finish.

Miss Taylor caved. "Alright. Show of hands. Recess after lunch. Meet here. If there's enough people, I'll let you finish the game. Who wants to?"

Carter's arm stayed glued to her side. A sea of hands flew into the air. Her unspoken protest drowned in the sea.

She had seriously considered not showing up. Eating lunch outside by the flagpole and then slipping into the library and burrowing like a rabbit at a table behind the magazine racks, escaping the storm—this concept appealed strongly to her. By the time the library pinged on anybody's radar, the bell would be ringing and she would be spared any potential humiliation.

The lunch tray was in her hands, but Carter's escape plans ended as a hand waved at her.

"Hey, teammate. See ya at the game!" The lopsided smile that accompanied these words revealed a host of perfect white teeth and Carter felt her resolve melt. Lunch slid off her tray into the wastebasket. Her tray almost followed before habit recalled the waiting tray cart beside the trash and arm muscles shifted landing the tray safely.

A string of involuntary steps carried her to the gym and upon her entrance the chances of flight dropped to none. Classmates and spectators alike, hemmed in around her.

News had rippled through the school increasing like a tidal wave. It was no longer a little thing.

The whistle blew once. The spectators drew back to the bleachers. The teams took up their relative positions. Someone handed her a ball.

Free throw time.

Dry mouth. Empty stomach. Shaky knees.

All eyes on her.

The hoop loomed ahead.

It only took a moment.

The cheers fell over her in waves.

Suddenly, her vision was blocked by _that_ smile. Warm lips pressed against hers. Before Carter fully registered what had happened, the ecstatic boy bounced away to the other side of the court.

Her knees went weak. Carter sank to the floor.

The next moment, Donny was being carried on the shoulders of his teammates. Bull and Donny slapped their hands together in a high-five, feuding over. Anyone just appearing on the scene would have believed Donny was the hero of the hour.

The school bell rang a warning, sending students scurrying off to make it to their next classes and leaving Carter, forgotten, beneath the basketball hoop.

* * *

She could feel Ed staring at her, waiting for a clue to what was going through her mind. He ran a hand through the back of his hair. When he spoke, his voice cracked. "Are we cool?"

She kept her face impassive. "Is this all of them?"

"Yeah." Tension oozed from him. "That's all I've got."

She didn't have a lot of experience in pulling strings, but she found she was enjoying tightening this one. She savored her newfound power. One hand reached out and pulled on the collar of his shirt. "All?"

"Yeah," Ed squeaked.

Totally unexpected to discover this clumsy guy cared about what she, Carter Mason, thought of him. Fascinating to watch him squirm like a fish on a hook. Reluctantly, she released him. Satisfied. "Okay."

"Okay? Phew. Carter, I didn't mean to upset you. I mean, I was going to give them to you anyways. Eventually."

"We're cool, Ed. Now, go home."

"Cool." Ed sprinted away, leaving Carter to wonder when the camera-obsessed and sometimes annoying geek next door had morphed into a tentative friend.

She reached home and headed straight to her room.

Her refuge.

The mattress crunched under her weight as Carter plopped down on her back and stared up at imaginary cracks in her ceiling.

She'd tasted a moment of glory. The cheers of her schoolmates still roared in her ears whenever she closed her eyes and played that moment back. Even the knowledge they'd forget her name next week didn't dampen her glee, because of what came next.

That kiss. Kissed by the cutest boy in school. The feeling was utterly indescribable.

And finally, she'd discovered one person in school who didn't completely hate her.

Events had fallen upon her, one after the other, like dominoes without pause and her mind raced to catch up. In the solitude of the room, a single regret bobbed to the surface and floated on top.

Her father had missed it all.

Completely.

For the briefest of moments, Carter allowed the tiny wisp of a thought to curl across her mind, evaporating almost as quickly as it appeared.

_Is this why she left?_


	3. Uncertainty

_Chapter 3: Uncertainty_

_**The Kingdom of Costa Luna**_

"Tell me again how you and mama met."

It was a classic love story. Rosalinda loved to listen to it.

Her father pretended to be shocked at her request, but could not hide his grin. She never tired of asking and he never tired of telling it. Both knew this, both could recite the words of the tale by heart, but they played their game just the same.

"Please!" She propped her head up on her hands. "Tell me the story."

"Your wish is my command. Once upon a time, there was a young king who fell madly in love with an intelligent and beautiful young lady…."

The whole kingdom of Costa Luna knew the tale. King meets peasant girl and falls in love with her.

In reality, it had not occurred overnight. From a tiny village, Sophia had become an educated activist, spearheading the charitable work to benefit the orphan children of Costa Luna. She was the persistent and uncompromising voice that first captured the King's attention followed swiftly by his heart. She rejected his first advances, but gradually his charm and his sincerity had won her.

"On the last day of summer, the little princess was born. The girl's beauty was as soft and as delicate as the flower petals of the most extraordinary rose. The entire realm was filled with happiness, but no one was happier on that day than the king and queen to welcome their daughter, Rosalinda."

The completion of the tale had never failed to make her smile.

* * *

The princess smiled at the memory now.

Her father had always wanted her to be happy.

Had. She missed him. She missed their chats.

She hesitated to speak about her father in her mother's presence. The loss had affected both of them greatly and drawn them closer together. Yet, the princess feared upsetting the queen. What if Rosalinda spoke too much? What if she touched a chord that caused her mother to cry? Rosalinda had never been able to see her mother's tears without wanting to cry too.

And princesses need to show confidence in public. Crying in public once the funeral had passed might be thought inappropriate. A princess needed to be strong, especially one who was to become the queen. Genuine sorrow, a valid emotion, still must be kept in check.

Her mother was so preoccupied with the arrangements. Recently, her mother's grief had been channeled into preparations for the coronation which was scheduled a mere month and a half away. _My coronation_. Rosalinda almost stopped breathing just thinking of it. Few in Costa Luna's history had begun ruling so young, but the laws of Costa Luna did not allow her mother, not of the royal bloodline, to assume the throne.

Lately, something out of the ordinary hung in the air and the sixteen-year old princess felt at a loss. She could not shake the feeling that the topic of conversation changed to something else when she entered a chamber. Whatever it was, the palace staff members had been chastised and were keeping their mouths shut. Between the gossip containment and the extra preparations for the upcoming ceremony, Rosalinda, champion eavesdropper, remained in the dark. She only knew her mother was worried, but did not want her daughter to worry. If this was what her mother wished, she would strive to fulfill that wish.

It was her duty. Only her duty would be so much easier if she had someone to talk to about it.

The enthusiastic voice of the palace's royal dress designer broke through her thoughts. "English is the language of commercial trade, of international business! If you know English, it will much harder for you to be cheated. That is why everyone at the palace encourages you to employ it." He turned suddenly and caught her staring out the window. "Are you listening, princesa?"

"I became distracted," the princess replied, guiltily. "I do appreciate what you were saying. I understand."

"You are not usually so inattentive." Mr. Elegante noted her tone of voice and moved closer to study her expression. "Why the sad face, princesa?"

"I was simply thinking."

"About what?"

"If I will ever have a friend."

"Oh, but you have many friends."

"I know," Rosalinda said with a small smile, but it quickly disappeared. There were not many people her own age living at the palace and the few she had approached seemed to be flattered by the attention, but unable to relax and be themselves around her. She had gradually given up her efforts. "But I meant a sincere friend that knows me as someone other than the princess of Costa Luna. I wish to have someone I may speak with about personal matters."

"Ah, but you have me!" Elegante said, adding a comical bow as if presenting himself.

Rosalinda giggled. "Yes, Mr. Elegante, of course! My family and I are very glad of it," she said, graciously. Rosalinda gazed out the window and added, under her breath, "But sometimes I wish there was…"

Mr. Elegante had sharp ears. "What do you wish, princesa?"

"There was something more." Rosalinda frowned unable to voice the rest of her thoughts. All she knew is she had a longing; a longing to share secrets with someone who really knew the real her, not the princess. Mr. Elegante was very nice, but he did not fit this description. "Do you ever forget that I am a princess?"

Mr. Elegante clapped his hands together once. He shook his head. "No. Never. I have always known you are a princess. It is not something easily forgotten. But do not worry, princesa, you cannot be anything other than who you are."

Rosalinda nodded. "This I know very well. I am sorry, Mister Elegante, I did not mean to distract you from my lessons." Mr. Elegante schooled her in matters of etiquette and protocol. Today this subject had led to a discussion about diplomacy and business relationships with other countries.

"You will always have enemies, princesa," he had explained. "They may try to entrap you with words or actions intended to provoke an unwise reaction that would place you in the wrong or paint you in a bad light. To avoid this, it is wise to get to know your enemies as well as you know your friends." The lecture had set Princess Rosalinda to thinking that the friends she had were few and far between in her life. Her parents were her confidantes and her father's death had caused a void that had yet to be filled.

* * *

Rosalinda shone like the sun in the yellow coronation dress Mister Elegante had fashioned for her. He had worked feverishly to complete it in time to be worn at the coronation rehearsal.

Joy bubbled in her warm brown eyes and a smile kept springing to her lips.

Then, everything changed. A sword stuck menacingly to the throne, pinning her displaced crown to the royal seat.

"I, General Magnus Kane, declare myself El Presidente de la República de las Costas." The man in the black beret and heavily decorated tan uniform spoke boldly. "Seize them!"

Cries of outrage erupted from the palace staff.

Mister Elegante lunged at Kane, but Dimitri blocked the royal dressmaker.

Rosalinda stared at Dimitri in disbelief. She felt her mother and the archbishop who had been officiating the practice coronation, protectively drawing to her side.

Her heart dropped into her stomach. _Dimitri?_ The captain of the guards, the very one sworn to offer his protection, stood near the man who had, seconds earlier, nearly driven her head through with a sword.

Her mouth dropped open in shock. He was on the general's side, supporting the villain who had literally ripped her crown away.

The yard began to fill with men in tan uniforms, General Kane's men, obviously allowed access to the throne area on this occasion because Dimitri had approved them. Dimitri's betrayal caused confusion amongst the royal guard and some defected immediately to Kane's cause. The maids, servers, decorators, musicians, and other unarmed palace staff gaped in horror.

Swords began to clank. Fighting broke out. This division of loyalties boded no good. Too quickly overpowered, the few defenders of the crown began to scatter. Two of Kane's men ran towards the princess.

The disturbing sound of ripping cloth fell through the air overhead and, a uniformed man sailed down on a makeshift rope, swinging through the air and planting a well-placed kick that sent both attackers crashing backwards into the fruit table. Ripe melons and strawberries went flying.

The man wore white gloves and a dusty blue uniform. A sword hung from his side. Her unknown savior rushed up beside her and reached for her arm. Instinctively, Rosalinda drew back.

"Go now with Major Mason. Go now!" Rosalinda received her second shock of the day as her mother insisted she follow this stranger. The princess allowed the tall man to take her hand and lead her away.

As she rushed behind the man her mother had ordered her to follow, Rosalinda voiced her confusion. "Who are you? Where are you taking me?" He wore the uniform of the Costa Luna guards, but she certainly had never seen him before in her life.

He didn't pause to reply, in fact, he seemed to run faster. "I'm here to protect you, but you need to trust me." They were ascending the stairs and rapidly retreating away from the throne room. Their flight took them across the checkered black and white tiles of the floor and then down another staircase.

Rosalinda wasn't about to take the major at his word. After all, hadn't protecting her been Dimitri's job who had, at one moment, been helping her practice looking dignified before her subjects and, the next moment, humiliated her, by siding with the enemy. She protested. Why wasn't the major helping protect her mother?

Only the promise of meeting with her mother soon kept Rosalinda from ripping herself from his grasp and running in the opposite direction. Relief coursed through her veins as she spotted her mother at the bottom of the next staircase they descended.

At Rosalinda's questioning, her mother affirmed she was unharmed. "You must trust Major Mason. You must do everything he says. Will you promise me you will do that?"

Overjoyed to see her mother, Rosalinda nodded, ready to obey these instructions. "Yes, Mama. I promise." Major Mason insisted the three keep moving, but it didn't take long for the daughter to realize her mother's plans to protect her were arranged for Rosalinda alone.

Rosalinda came to a full halt. "No, not without you!" If her mother was staying, why couldn't she stay too, and fight beside her?

"No matter what happens, never forget you are a princess." The royal fugitive felt the warm necklace being hung around her own neck as her mother spoke soothing words, then embraced her quickly as tears sparkled in her eyes, and Rosalinda was six-years old again. Only this time, the evil men who lurked in the shadowy woods had taken possession of the palace.

And Rosalinda was afraid.

Her eyes began to sting as Major Mason grabbed her hand, pulling her away from her mother's embrace and, outside, onto the palace grounds, ushering her to the waiting helicopter.

The tears spilled over as Costa Luna became a tiny green dot below as the helicopter whisked her away from the only life she had ever known and everything she held dear.

* * *

_**A/N:** And so it begins, we enter Phase 2, the story expansion. We'll be covering both new and familiar territory, with more depth and development. I'm excited, I hope you enjoy it too. Every writer needs to improve, so let me know how I'm doing. I love reactions to the plot. What are your thoughts so far?  
_


	4. Assume Nothing

_**A/N: **TPTB really do listen when you ask them to add to the character list or correct Princess Mason to Carter M. Ah, I am too much of a perfectionist :) On with the story!

* * *

  
_

_Chapter 4: Assume Nothing_

It touched her last nerve.

_How could getting a haircut possibly help Costa Luna?_

Rosalinda couldn't stop shaking. She had bathed and was wearing a pink robe over her fresh underclothes. The locket her mother had entrusted her with hung around her neck. Her eyes were still swollen from her bout of tears, but her mouth was set in a firm line. Her arrival to the headquarters of the hitherto unknown International Princess Protection Program had become too much for her to absorb. This talk of stages, of extractions and transitions, transformation and relocation began to baffle her sleep-deprived brain.

She felt sick.

"I want to speak with Major Mason. I only trust Major Mason." The outburst had its intended effect. The dangerous-looking scissors moving toward her long copper brown locks halted abruptly. For the first time since her arrival, Rosalinda found she had regained control of her situation. The tall, self-assured Director, a Russian woman with curly hair stopped giving orders to her staff and ceased offering partial and oversimplified explanations to Rosalinda.

The Director looked towards her assistant, a young woman named Chloe, who seemed to have a clipboard attached to her arm. Out of the corner of her eye, the princess saw Chloe move off quickly, presumably to fetch Major Mason.

"Is that an official request? You will not allow us to continue Stage Three until you see Major Mason?" the Director asked, carefully approaching the chair where the princess was seated in front of a mirror.

Rosalinda took a deep breath and hoped she wasn't visibly quaking. "It is. I want to see Major Mason," she repeated in her well-rehearsed tone of command. Her fear began to subside slightly as she decided this strange place really could not be a bizarre prison. The requests of prisoners were rarely heeded. Then, the Princess Protection Program must be run by a legitimate organization. The Director had said it was funded by royal families. If such was the case, the PPP, as the Director abbreviated it, followed specified rules.

Rosalinda absorbed this thought. She would use this knowledge to her advantage.

"Very well," said the Director.

Buoyed by this consent, Rosalinda said, "And what happened to my things?" She frowned and decided to clarify her chief concern, "My dress?"

The Director shook her head. "You will not need it."

The frown on Rosalinda's face deepened. This still did not answer her question.

The woman continued. "The personal belongings of a princess are too identifiable to be taken with them once they are relocated. Unless you want them donated to PPP and recycled, they are placed in storage."

Rosalinda thought of the hours Mr. Elegante must have toiled on that dress. "Storage is acceptable."

"Is there anything else you wish to place in storage?"

The Director's question caused Rosalinda to think of her locket, but she refrained from touching the beloved heirloom, currently hidden behind the folds of her robe. The Director and her staff must have noted the item of jewelry earlier, but if they did not remark on it, Rosalinda would not call attention to it either.

The Director took her silence as a negative. "Very well."

Chloe floated back over to them and addressed the woman in charge. "Major Mason has finished his debriefing. He will be here as soon as he can."

The Director nodded. "Find our princess a suitable place to wait. There are others I must attend to now."

* * *

If she hadn't been pacing so lost in her own thoughts, she might have heard his approach. The princess heard his light knock on the room divider before she saw him. He strolled into the quiet area where she had been told to await him.

"Is everything alright?" His kind eyes focused on her. Probing.

Relief washed over Rosalinda at the sight of him. No one seemed to want to talk about the subject uppermost in her thoughts. She hoped Major Mason would be more helpful.

Major Mason had discarded most of his disguise, but still wore the uniform pants of Costa Luna along with a dark shirt.

_Costa Luna. Her mother. How could they have left her mother behind?_

These thoughts burned, stirring up an internal fire she could not control. Fear. Guilt. Anger. Panic. "Take me back to my country!" she seethed.

Unfortunately, Major Mason wasn't a royal subject. He remained impervious to her command.

Desperate, she tried again. "But I must go back." It was strange to ask for something and be told she could not have it. She studied Major Mason with a measure of disbelief. Why didn't he understand? This was so wrong. Even her surroundings irked her. The soft lights and the gentle colors all designed to provide a lulling sense of security. How could she be here while her country was suffering?

His tone was comforting. "You have to let us protect you."

In the face of such calm, the flames of her anger began to flicker and fade. "But what about my mother? Who's protecting my mother?"

"You are. As long as you're in Princess Protection your mom will be safe." Major Mason gave her a half smile and gestured towards some nearby seating. "Please."

Rosalinda responded to the invitation and took a seat. The Major settled in another one nearby.

Now, that she was not fleeing for her life, something about his voice—his American voice—sparked a memory. "Major?"

"Yes?"

"Have we met before?"

Major Mason's eyes opened wider. "No."

"But this visit of yours to Costa Luna?" Rosalinda pursued the subject. "It was not the first time."

One eyebrow flew up in surprise. "How do you know that?"

"It is the truth." She arched an eyebrow. "Is it not?"

"I came to visit your country when the royal family first applied to enter the PPP. I met with your father. He was a good man. That's why I was sent to Costa Luna when word came that General Kane had entered your country. Without your father, your mother worried Kane would take advantage of the situation. He certainly did. General Kane is hoping you'll contact your mother, so he'll know where to find you."

"What if he does find me?"

"He'll make an example of you by sending you to prison or a work farm."

Rosalinda glared at him. "I am young and have not seen much of the world outside of Costa Luna, but that does not mean I am stupid."

Major Mason studied her seriously. It was clear in his voice that his opinion of her had raised several notches. "I'm sorry."

"My mother is in danger. General Kane may execute her."

Major Mason made no attempt to deny the truth of her statement. "That is not an issue at the moment."

"If it becomes one, will you promise me you will save my mother?"

"I am not in charge of that decision. Listen. My top priority is you. Now, your mother already explained why she chose to stay. Do you honestly believe I would let your mother stay in Costa Luna if I thought her life was in immediate danger?"

Rosalinda dropped her eyes. "No." She looked up again. "But, what if she needs me?"

"She needs you to stay safe." As Major Mason spoke, Rosalinda could tell he was a veteran. "If you were to return now, both of your lives would be in danger. If you care about your country, and your mom's safety, nobody can know who you really are."

For her entire life, Rosalinda could not remember being unknown. Such was impossible as the princess of Costa Luna. She studied Major Mason, listening to his tone of voice as he spoke. This man had handled many missions before and given speeches like this one. He knew what he was doing and she placed faith in his words. He would do his utmost to protect her.

Something positive bubbled up inside her, smothering the last vestiges of her anger.

She decided right then, if she had to accept relocation and go into hiding, there was only one place she wanted to be. "I will undergo Stage Three. You will stay with me?"

Major Mason tilted his head at the plea. "Of course."

As Major Mason stood by, the haircut became the least of her worries. She returned to the chair in front of the mirror, projecting a bravado she did not feel. "You may proceed."

* * *

_**Lake Monroe, Louisiana**_

_**USA**_

For Carter, the princess had long been the enemy.

If the preppy princesses who picked on her at school weren't enough with their perfect hair and pedicures, the royal princesses-- that her dad regularly abandoned her for in order to protect --were more than enough to torture her teenage spirit.

Every time he risked his life to save theirs, Carter found herself torn in half. She was proud of him and she was extremely jealous of them. She couldn't compete against them. The agency called and he would go. He would go every time. Why couldn't it be her, Carter Mason, his flesh and blood daughter that he would drop everything for? Why couldn't once, just once, her dad decide that she was more important than the Princess Protection Program? Those royal brats had everything served up on a golden platter, while Carter only had her dad. What if, one day, his top secret mission took him away, not just for a few days or weeks, but forever?

Secretly and illogically, she blamed them. She blamed them for being royal princesses. If they were just normal like everyone else there wouldn't need to be an international Princess Protection Program. Dad wouldn't be off in undisclosed locations leaving Carter home worrying and wishing there was something she could do to keep him safe.

It was with relief she saw his familiar vehicle parked outside and knew that her dad had returned home from his latest mission. She rushed inside, calling for him, stopping only to deposit her schoolbag in her room and reflexively greet the pretty girl sitting there.

"Hey." Wait! _Girl?_

Carter halted in mid-departure and turned around, all haste to find her dad evaporating. Why was a stranger in her room?

The girl's explanation was simple. "Major Mason gave me this room."

_No way! _"He did, huh?" Carter asked in blank surprise._  
_

"Yes, he's been very lovely."

"Lovely?" Carter questioned. As she struggled to determine the origin of this girl's odd choice of words, a suspicion tugged at Carter's shoulders.

The primness in her speech, the proper way she sat, and her perfect hair. The way this girl lay claim on a room that didn't belong to her. Everything fell together now as clearly as if the letters had been written on a chalkboard.

In Carter's life, proud, proper, and pretty…annoying always spelled princess.

Her enemy was here! A royal princess in the forbidden zone, in her room, violating her sanctuary--why would Dad do something like this to her? "Would you excuse me for a second?" She found herself mumbling as she decided to go seek an explanation from the source of this imported irritant. Her _lovely_ father. Obviously, he was nowhere in the house. She would try the dock. She turned to go once more.

The girl in the window seat nodded obligingly and responded, oblivious to Carter's dismay. "Yes, you are excused."

Carter's jaw dropped. She had just been royally dismissed.

By a princess.

This was an all-out invasion.

Carter didn't trust herself to say another word to her unwelcome guest. By sheer willpower, she kept on walking. She clenched her fists, and the door received the brunt of her wrath as she slammed it, then stomped outside.

_I declare war!_


	5. Secrets

**A/N:** _Thanks for reading and reviewing. **ry:** It's so nice to gain new readers. I hope you enjoy the journey. _**i am indistructible:** _That's exactly the kind of stories I like to read. Plot and good characterizations are very important to me. _**NicnicBbycakes & A: **_Yes, development.:) I'm excited too._**  
**

* * *

_Chapter 5: Secrets_

The question shot through her like a bullet.

She hadn't been sure what to make of the dark-haired, teenage girl that had barged into her suite without knocking, but customs were different in the United States of America. Hiding her surprise, she stayed seated at the window and attempted to assess the interloper.

Even in the face of such rude behavior, it was proper to be polite. "Hello."

"Hey." She caught only a blur of dark purple shirt and blue jeans as the girl barely acknowledged the greeting, but simply tossed a bag on the bed nearest the door and sprinted out again.

The future queen of Costa Luna blinked.

She wasn't used to being ignored.

Suddenly, the teen came stomping back and the princess got more than a passing glance at her face, a beautiful face that might adorn a magazine cover except its features were currently covered by a deep scowl. Dark brown eyes stared daggers at her, but the girl's questioning tone only held pure puzzlement, triggering the question that hovered in the air now.

"Who are you?"

She had not expected to be interrogated about her new identity quite so soon. Syllables escaped her mouth and she stammered as if being held at gunpoint. "Rosa—uh." She stopped her blunder and corrected the error. "Rosie." The princess-in-hiding attempted to smile, hoping to cover her hesitation. Forty-eight hours ago, she had been the princess of Costa Luna, but now the welfare of her country and the life of her mother hinged on keeping that secret.

Unfortunately, her impromptu interrogator wasn't convinced by her performance. "Are you sure? 'Cause you don't seem sure."

"Rosie," she said, firmly and tried smiling again. "I am sure." Accustomed to giving speeches at public dinners and other occasions held regularly at the palace, Rosie was surprised to find herself tongue-tied when facing another girl her own age.

The next question fired at her was easy by comparison. Rosie felt glad to speak about the generosity of Major Mason. Surely, there could be no argument on that front. If only Mister Elegante could see how she was making the best of her situation, he would be so proud. "Of course, this suite is much smaller than I am used to but it will feel much larger once I have that extra bed removed."

"It's not extra. It's _mine_."

_Oh._ An awkward pause filled the air as Rosie searched for something to say. It was quite possible Major Mason had not yet informed the girl that this was the suite Rosie would be using. When the girl asked to be excused, she nodded and dismissed her, relieved to know certain customs were still observed here.

Rosie flinched at the loud slam of the door.

Her nerves hadn't fully recovered from the memory of a sword flying at her head. Nerves had also prevented her from eating the meal offered at PPP headquarters and from sleeping on the flight.

By the time she had climbed up into the truck beside Major Mason to be conducted to this house by the lake, her mind had started to wander. She did her best to listen to a lecture the major gave on not wandering off alone; avoiding poisonous creatures that apparently lived near water, and something about fishing. One important name kept coming up repeatedly in his conversation like a chorus, so even her drowsy brain had managed to capture and retain it.

Curious, Rosie rose and peeked through the window. The girl was making a beeline for Major Mason.

Comprehension dawned and apprehension followed it.

So that angry person, that rude girl—_that was Carter Mason_?

* * *

Joe Mason watched his daughter march towards him.

_Uh oh. _He expected a stir when Carter discovered Rosie, but had hoped it wouldn't be so soon._ Here it comes_, he thought. He bent his neck, concentrating on his work. He now wore civilian clothes, a white T-shirt with a light blue, button down shirt over it and work pants perfect for dealing with buckets of bait. He squinted through his shades, lifting his head as the determined teenager came up to the water's edge beside him. His first impulse was to grab his daughter and pull her into a hug, but he doubted that would be well-received at the moment. Instead, he beamed brightly. "Hey pal!"

"Don't 'pal' me!" Carter bristled.

_Not happy. Not happy at all. _The sunshine reflected brightly off the water, but Mason saw the storm clouds gathering in his daughter's eyes. He feigned innocence. "You met Rosie?"

"Yeah." Carter rolled her eyes. "Who is she and why is she in my room?"

_Asking questions_, Mason thought. _Good, let the negotiations begin_. "I had to bring her here. The director didn't give me a choice."

"Okay. Just, you know," Carter's words faltered as her dad's reply threw her off for a moment. She watched as he continued to work nonchalantly. If Rosie was here it meant something had gone wrong on his so-called routine mission. Her pulse quickened thinking of the unknown dangers he'd faced. She couldn't find it in her to stay angry with him. She settled for voicing her displeasure. "A normal dad would go to a foreign country on a secret mission and bring his daughter back a T-shirt, not a person." Carter crossed her arms across her chest. "You should have warned me," she chided, softly.

She knew her dad had secrets.

Carter hated secrets. She hated that her dad's job required him to keep secrets from her. She hated that if something happened to him, she would likely be the last person to know.

Because of all those stupid secrets.

"Carter, I didn't have a choice," he said, firmly. "She doesn't trust anybody but me."

So her dad wanted to make sure that this princess felt comfortable, but hadn't found a way to notify his daughter that a real-life princess would be crashing in Carter's room? Once again, her father had missed several days of her life in order to rescue a princess in distress. A tone of resentment crept into her voice as she said, "Yeah, I know the feeling."

Her tone was not lost on her father. A frown of concern wrinkled his forehead. "Hey, what I do is complicated. But if I thought for one second it would hurt our family," Mason began, launching a lecture that Carter had heard many times. Before he reached the part about how selfish it was to refuse to help others if you had the resources, guilt set in and Carter cut him off.

"Dad, I get it." She sighed. He didn't have to tell her how important this job was to him. She knew he tried hard to make their family work. He almost never brought the job home with him.

Not until now.

Mason watched as the storm in his daughter's eyes dissipated and breathed an inner sigh of relief. He knew he could count on her. "So, you're in?"

"Are you recruiting me?" Carter asked, narrowing her eyes.

Mason grinned and peered at his daughter over the rims of the dark shades resting on his nose. He removed the glasses and hung them from the collar of his shirt. "Aren't you the one who always wants to know more about my job? And, as much as I tried to discourage you, haven't you told me it's something you want to do? You wanna be like me? Didn't you even have a song about it?"

"Dad!" Carter ran a hand through her hair in embarrassment. "The last time I told you that I was like what? Nine!"

He gave her a knowing look. "It's still true, isn't it? Here's your shot: She needs to stay here for awhile, undetected. And in order for that to happen, she has to blend in as a normal American teenager."

"No." Carter already was shaking her head. "Not gonna happen, Dad. She's a princess. I figured out she was a princess the minute she opened her mouth and started giving _me_ orders. She thinks she owns my room! You did tell her it was my room, right?"

Mason rubbed his chin and didn't reply. When Carter glared, he said, "I said, 'Here's your room, Rosie. Settle in and let me know if you need anything.' I was trying to make her feel welcome."

Carter scoffed. "Great, Dad. Just great."

The sarcasm didn't escape him either. He looked at her dubiously. "Do you want to me to explain to her?"

"No, I'm not five! I'll take care of it. But she's such a princess! Who else just assumes things like that?" _Especially when my stuff's all over the room_. _This girl would never cut it as a spy._ "How do you think she's going to fit in at school? Dad, it's impossible."

"Consider this your first assignment: Princess Impossible."

_Now, he chooses to be witty? _Carter surrendered, recognizing she was losing this battle. She threw her hands in the air. "Fine! Who do I say she is?"

"Three Seven Nine."

"What?" _That makes her sound like a creature on Star Trek._

"Just kidding, Carter. You'll only use that if I'm not around when something goes south. You'll have to notify the director that 379 needs pick up. With everyone else, she's your cousin."

This seemed an almost bigger joke than her dad's intentional one. "My cousin?" Carter raised an eyebrow, wondering how she was going to pass off the princess she had just seen as her cousin.

"She's already enrolled in school and in your classes, so you'll be able to keep an eye on her. I'll monitor things from this end."

Carter nodded. Her father sounded so serious. It made her wonder. "If someone finds out who she is?"

"One scenario: Rosie will be moved to a new location under the protection of another agent and I'll be answering a lot of questions back at HQ. I'm not going to mince words with you, pal. I don't think I have to explain to you what would happen if she fell into enemy hands. This job is no picnic. If you're going to have any problems with it, tell me now."

Carter had nothing to say.

"Thank you, Carter. If we do our job right, she'll be out of here and back to her country in no time."

"Okay so, by Tuesday?" Carter quipped.

Her dad smiled openly at her, promising the situation would be resolved soon. He stuck out a hand, offering their special handshake. "Still you and me, pal?"

"No." Even as she shook her head and weakly protested. Carter couldn't help smiling. Moments later, she was giggling as her father playfully threatened to toss her in the lake.

Because, of course, it was the two of them.

Always.

* * *

Still chuckling softly, Carter trudged back to the house. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a face at her bedroom window. Her body went rigid. Her smile fled.

She marched through the house, back into the room, and straight up to the princess, who had the audacity to ask, "You have made other sleeping arrangements?"

Carter quelled the urge to scream. "Look," she said, overemphasizing her words in the way one might address a three-year old. "This _room_ is _not_ yours. It's _ours_." Carter punctuated her words with hand gestures for good measure. "We _share_ it."

"Share?"

"Share," Carter repeated in a matter-of-fact tone. Seeing the confusion on Rosie's face, she continued, irritably. "I know that's probably a foreign concept to a princess, but what it means is you get one side of the room and I get the other. So stay on your side!"

As Carter spoke, Rosie listened in shock. Never in life had she been addressed in this manner. It made her feel uneasy and displaced. She longed for something familiar to do. Suddenly, she was struck with a thought.

"Carter Mason!" she called after the girl's retreating back.

Carter dropped the hand that was about to slam the door. "What?" Carter snapped, and, for a moment, Rosie almost changed her mind about making her request.

She forged ahead. "I wish to read."

"Read?"

"Yes, I always read before bed."

"But it's four 'o clock in the afternoon!"

"You do not have literature?"

Giving up this battle, Carter stepped over to her computer desk, and began rummaging in a drawer. "Uh...Here's some magazines." She tossed the stack onto the window seat.

Rosie accepted the pile and began to thumb through the covers.

Carter was about to leave when a small, polite voice pulled her back. "Have you anything else?"

"Yeah, but you'll have to get it yourself. Follow me."

Rosie gracefully stood up and began to follow Carter.

It was the first time Carter had seen Rosie standing at her full height, and Carter noted that she was slightly taller than the royal. With Rosie close behind her, Carter stopped before a bookshelf in the living room and pointed. "Just pick something out."

Rosie's eyes traveled over the shelves. Finally, she reached for a black, bulky-looking book near the bottom.

Carter's eyes settled on what Rosie had chosen. "Not that one!" Carter hissed, sharply, but it was too late. Rosie already held the book in her hands.

Rosie rubbed her fingers against the aged cover of a Bible. "My father used to read this to me. It is yours?" she asked, wondering at Carter's protest.

"No, it's just. I-it belonged to...it was my....It was _hers_." Carter's voice wavered strangely. Rosie opened her mouth to ask Carter to explain, when the Louisiana girl spoke again. "Never mind. It's fine. Take it. Whatever." Carter fled from the room, leaving Rosie bewildered by the strange behavior.

Major Mason showed an excellent caliber of character, but she did not understand Carter Mason.

Rosie returned to the solitude of the bedroom window seat with an unsettled feeling.

Like she had missed something important.

* * *

_A/N: I want to know readers' reactions to this chapter, so please do :)_


	6. In the Dark

**Disclaimer:** Princess Protection Program and its characters belong to the Disney Channel and are borrowed here for the purposes of free entertainment.

**Summary:** When something is broken, it's hard to put it back together again. Carter never let anyone get to close. Her life is disrupted by Rosie, the optimistic princess in hiding won't stop asking questions, forcing Carter to face her fears of the past.

**Tagline:** If one girl can make a difference, two can save the world.

**A/N: **_Wow! Thanks for your reactions. It spurred this non-Sunday/Monday update. Insightful readers are wonderful:)_** NicnicBbycakes: **_One of your guesses was correct. _**agarza1538:** _glad that you like it :)_, **i am indistructible: **_aw, hope you enjoy what's in store_** brittaney: **_Thank you so much_**. Underneathesurface: **_perfect sense, it's all about details and adding emotional layers_,** ry: **_Thanks for highlighting your fav. part. More angst ahead. _**  
**

* * *

_Chapter 6: In the Dark  
_

In spite of Carter's reaction, Rosie had not relinquished her reading choice. The words were familiar, even if the language was not. She lost herself in the words, imagining how her father used to read them to her. Remembering brought comfort.

The smells of cheese and warm tomato sauce wafted into the room as Carter opened her bedroom door suddenly. Since Rosie had last seen her, Carter had changed into a blue shirt and shorts. "It's dinner," Carter chirped. "Pizza." Carter leaned impatiently against the doorframe. "You coming?"

The words on the page had started to swim before her eyes. Rosie pushed her reading material aside hastily as Carter came farther into the room. If Carter spotted it and recognized it, she didn't visibly react.

Deep brown eyes remained fixed on Rosie. "My dad wants to know," Carter prodded. "Are you hungry?"

The thought of eating made her stomach turn. Rosie smiled politely, but refused.

Carter shrugged. "'Kay, but don't say I didn't ask."

Mason frowned at his daughter when she returned without a princess in tow. "How's Rosie?"

"She's reading," Carter replied, gruffly.

A little too gruffly for her father's liking. "You asked her to join us?" Mason shuffled the playing cards in his hands.

"Yeah, but she politely declined."

"Carter?" Mason's voice held a tone of slight disbelief.

"She did, Dad," Carter insisted. "She said, 'Thank you, I decline.' It's like she's some kind of alien, Dad. Carter Mason, I do not require food at this time," Carter said in a mocking, stilted voice.

"Carter, be nice. This is Rosie's first time away from home without her family. How would you feel if you were in her shoes?"

The teen piled several slices onto her plate. "Well, I certainly wouldn't stay cooped up in my room and I'd never turn down pizza."

Her dad laughed and Carter felt a little better. She liked it when he laughed and she had been the cause of it. She also liked the fact that she was currently beating him at cards. The two became absorbed in the card game and her father inquired if she had been asked to the homecoming dance yet. Carter shook her head, but didn't elaborate. The subject of Donny and the dance could quickly become a downer.

Trying to maintain the good cheer, Carter decided to be interested in her father's work. "So I thought princesses had designer clothes and stuff." The cotton top and jeans Rosie was wearing wasn't exactly the type of attire she pictured for a princess.

Her question worked. Her dad looked pleased. "Well," he drawled. "She had to leave all that behind. I thought you could, you know, lend her some of your stuff."

Carter stared back at her dad, but saw no hint of mirth in his light brown eyes. He wasn't kidding. "Yeah. Sure." Carter tried to picture the princess of a foreign country wearing a baseball cap and sweat pants. Or maybe a red _Joe's Bait Shack_ cap. The image seemed ludicrous. "Or, you know, you could take us shopping." When Mason didn't immediately veto the idea, Carter said, "Maybe…after school tomorrow?"

Mason shrugged, noncommittally. Because he prided himself on keeping promises, he didn't make many at one time. "Maybe."

On Carter's dad scale, the response _maybe_ leaned much closer to the positive end. It was much better than a _we'll see_ which almost always meant _no_.

She was about to dive back into the game of cards with a reinvigorated spirit when her dad cleared his throat meaningfully. "Now, go try again."

"After this hand," Carter protested. She seriously doubted the princess was going to want cold pizza leftovers, especially after she had declined the piping hot pizza slices when dinner had first arrived.

"No," Mason shook his head. "Now." Her father gave her a look like she was a neglectful babysitter and she didn't have any choice.

"Okay, okay." Carter hopped up to grab a limp piece of pizza from the box on the kitchen counter. The melted cheese on top had congealed. She tossed the unappetizing slice onto a paper plate. "Don't look at my cards." Reluctantly, she went to her bedroom door and opened it.

Rosie had not moved from the spot Carter had left her an hour and a half ago. She seemed to be staring at nothing in particular. "Kitchen's closing," Carter said, dutifully. She displayed the plate in her hand. "Last chance to eat something."

"No, thank you. I wish to sleep."

_Okay. No surprise there._ Duty done, Carter turned to go.

"You may help me prepare for bed," Rosie's voice called after her.

Carter turned around as cold shock traveled up her spine followed swiftly by hot indignation. "I _may_?"

Rosie stood next to the bed, waiting for assistance. "Yes," and it was her turn to sound matter-of-fact. "I require a nightgown. Preferably silk. Preferably pink."

If this princess thought that Carter was going to wait on her hand and foot during her stay, Carter decided to nip that idea in the bud. She dropped the pizza plate onto her desk. Stifling her derision, she said, "Pink silk. Let me see what I have got." Carter opened her bedroom wardrobe and pulled out a cotton t-shirt and shorts. She flung the items, none to gently, at Rosie.

The princess closed her eyes as the clothing hit her squarely in the face, then dropped onto one of her shoulders. Rosie opened her eyes and blinked, nonplussed. She pulled the clothes into her arms. Too weary to comment on Carter's bewildering behavior, Rosie asked, "¿Por favor, dónde está el baño?"

The frown creasing Carter's brow was the only thing that made Rosie realize, too late, that she had addressed the other girl in Spanish.

Carter shook her head. First, Rosie treated her like a servant and now she had the gall to be speaking another language. _Who does she think she is? Oh yeah. That's right._

_ A princess. _

"May I use your restroom?" Rosie clarified her request. At home, in Costa Luna, speaking English was only an option. Her head had started to ache slightly from sustaining the language for an extended period of time. Even her intensive language studies had not prepared her for total immersion in not only another language, but culture.

Carter responded. "Yeah. Sure. Upstairs. First door to the right."

"Gracias," Rosie replied, and slowly walked past Carter and out of the room, moving cautiously as if she almost expected the teen to lob an arsenal of clothes after her.

Carter shrugged it off, refusing to look to see if Rosie had even headed in the right direction. "Whatever." Taking up the pizza plate once more, she returned to her game of cards.

* * *

It was too quiet.

Carter opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling. The lack of light told her it was too early to be awake yet. She was starting to regret drinking that third Coke. Her dad wouldn't normally allow it, but on the days he returned from missions he was usually more lenient. Mission return days were set exclusively aside for father-daughter time and Carter always got to pick what they had for supper. Pizza won nine times out of ten.

Last evening, however, there had been a third mouth to feed. That extra mouth had refused pizza and turned down Coke in favor of a glass of water, giving Carter entirely too many excuses to make sure the food didn't go to waste.

Speaking of that extra mouth, Carter kicked off her covers and turned her attention towards the bed near the window. She listened but could hear no sounds of breathing other than her own. Carter sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, then looked again. In the faint blue moonlight that filtered through the window her eyes could not be mistaken.

The bed was empty.

Carter waited several moments to see if Rosie had simply awakened for the same reason as Carter, listening for creaking floorboards sounding a return trip from the bathroom.

Nothing happened.

Groaning, Carter got up and scanned her darkened room for clues. Nothing looked amiss. Carter opened the bedroom door and stumbled sleepily into the main room of the house.

Still nothing.

She climbed the stairs to the bathroom. The light was off. All quiet on this front. Shaking her head, Carter padded back down the stairs with a greater sense of urgency.

A ball of worry started to form in the pit of her stomach.

Not in the kitchen. Not out on the porch. Where could she be?

_Don't panic. Don't panic. _Carter took a deep breath. _Unless this princess is an insomniac who likes to take unannounced midnight strolls in unfamiliar countries, she has to be somewhere in the house. Right?_

Her eyes had completely adjusted to the dark now. Still no signs of the missing princess, but Carter wasn't about to believe the girl had been snatched out from under her nose. Carter headed back towards square one. As she neared her bedroom door, something caught her peripheral vision.

A gleam.

Carter swiveled her head towards it. Was it just her imagination or was there an eerie light shining from the crack in the laundry room door? Carter stepped towards it slowly, put her hand on the wood, and slowly pressed it. The door swung open silently and the first thing Carter noticed was the shiny silver flashlight she normally kept on her bedroom nightstand resting, abandoned, in the middle of the floor. It was switched on, the bright beam creating a small golden rivulet which expanded across the floorboards until it created a faint circle of light on the wall beside the door.

Carter knelt down to pick it up.

"C-Carter?"

The whispered gasp struck Carter like lightning. She tensed as her fingers closed tightly around the metal of the flashlight. The teen straightened quickly and turned towards the sound of faint breathing. Carter swept a hand through her hair, brushing it away from where strands had fallen into her face, to gain unobstructed vision. She narrowed her eyes and trained the flashlight beam until she illuminated a fear-stricken face.

The brown eyes were wide and wet tear trails glistened on round cheeks. The girl was leaning back, pressing herself against the wall, clutching her pink makeup case between her hands as if her life depended on it.

"Rosie?" Carter arched an eyebrow. Hadn't she seen that expression of horror on Rosie's face before? Of course, last night when Rosie had been startled by that lizard on the stairwell wall. Carter felt baffled. "What? Another lizard?"

Slowly, Rosie shook her head, raised a finger, and pointed.

The ball in Carter's stomach became a cold pit of fear as a loud thump came from the shadows next to her and she saw where Rosie's point was aimed.

At something directly behind her.

Carter's skin crawled. She spun around on one foot in a move that might have rivaled the ballet. Then, she slid back away from the _whatever-it-was_, bringing herself next to Rosie alongside the wood paneled wall in one fluid motion. Her arm brushed the frightened girl's shoulder as Carter whispered, frantically. "What is it?"

Rosie's warm brown eyes stayed fixed on the shadows. Carter followed the gaze and gasped, taking in the sight, unable to look away.

Two glowing eyes glared directly down at them.

An angry hiss filled the air.


	7. Instinct

**A/N:** Oh, look! A Monday update! :)

**Disclaimer:** Princess Protection Program and its characters belong to the Disney Channel and are borrowed here for the purposes of free entertainment.

**Summary:** When something is broken, it's hard to put it back together again. Carter never let anyone get to close. Her life is disrupted by Rosie, the optimistic princess in hiding won't stop asking questions, forcing Carter to face her fears of the past.

**Genre:** Drama/Friendship

**Tagline:** If one girl can make a difference, two can save the world.

**To all reviewers:** That cliffhanger just flowed naturally into the story. Can't answer your questions without spoilers, but thanks so much for reviewing. Your reviews are like ringing bells reminding me to write.:) **brittaney: **My writing thrives on conflict. I tend to write/read drama/suspense. **TinkotheGreat:** I'm amazed at how well you understand this story. Thanks for all those kind comments and reactions. It really helps getting all that feedback.

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_Chapter 7: Instinct_

It must have been temporary insanity.

Rosie trembled beside her and Carter's ears caught the whimper that escaped her throat.

As the cry of fright fell on her ears, Carter remembered another time when she had heard a similar wail. Just like that, Carter's mind flashed back to a face that had held the same look of fear. Only the face had been younger and the copper brown hair was replaced with straw blond. The fearful brown pools were round and misty blue.

The face had belonged to the three-year old boy Carter was babysitting.

Quite the tomboy, Carter loved capturing fireflies, butterflies, grasshoppers and even the occasional moth. She watched ants marching to their anthills and splashed through mud puddles chasing after frogs and toads.

She drew the line at spiders. Where the phobia had given birth, no one really knew. Everyone acquainted with the adventurous girl knew that Carter squirmed visibly at the mere mention of a spider. At the sight of one, she promptly exited the area, nothing inducing her to return until proof was given that the spider had been destroyed or removed.

It didn't seem humanly possible that someone could be more afraid of spiders than Carter. When the brown, eight-legged creature skittered across the gray floor of the bathroom tiles, Carter met her match.

The scream brought her to the door to take in that sight.

Carter took one look at the wailing child and another at the creepy crawler making its way across the tiles toward him. The terrified boy's screams increased in volume with each tiny step.

She didn't have to time to think about what she did next. She simply did it. One red sneaker in hand, she took a step forward, and smashed the spider with one solid blow. She averted her eyes from the disgusting stain on her shoe sole and ignored the shudder that rushed through her as she knelt beside her young charge. "It's okay," she had whispered as much for her benefit as his. "You don't have to be scared anymore."

Riding home at the end of the day with her dad, Carter recapped events. Her dad whistled in near disbelief. Carter hardly believed it herself. She chalked it up to temporary insanity, but her father disagreed. "Not insanity, pal. Instinct. Looks like you inherited a protective streak."

* * *

Carter took a deep breath as the angry hiss deepened into a more guttural growl, but it was Rosie's sob that jolted Carter back from her state of momentary paralysis. That feeling of insanity gripped Carter now, pressing the fear into the background. A draft of air hit Carter's face, alerting her to the open window on the wall behind the creature.

Carter held up the flashlight illuminating the masked face of America's well-known ring-tailed rascal where it stood on hind legs atop a wooden dresser. Its grayish brown fur bristled as it bared its teeth menacingly. It was the largest she'd ever seen.

Rosie gasped at the unfamiliar sight. She let out a heart-wrenching scream.

The response was visceral. Adrenaline pulsed through her veins. Carter launched herself forward, stomping her feet, shouting at the top of her lungs, and waving the flashlight back and forth wildly. As she neared the dresser, the tomboy flung the flashlight forward with all her might.

All those years of playing with a baseball and mitt paid off.

Her pitch hit home.

**_Smack. _**

The snarl ceased abruptly. The furry-tailed bandit's mouth snapped shut as it dropped back to all fours in shock.

**_Crash._**

The ill-used flashlight dropped to the floor and darkness enveloped the room once again.

There was a loud clunk as something hit the floor, followed by a scuffling noise as the raccoon's outline appeared in the moonlit window. The form disappeared even more quickly, swallowed up by the darkness of the night.

It was gone.

Carter ran to the window. It thudded closed as Carter yanked it, and then flipped the lock in place. With a grunt, Carter used the moonlight to discover the broken flashlight. She retrieved it, then stepped over to the light switch and illuminated the room.

Panting, Carter leaned back against the dresser to catch her breath. Her heart beat rapidly in chest. She felt the pounding in her ears. She blinked as her eyes were temporarily blinded by the light flooding the small room. Then, everything snapped back into focus.

Rosie was still standing with her back against the wall, only now she had fallen silent. The warm brown pools fastened on Major Mason's daughter shone with a mixture of gratitude and awe in their depths.

Dark brown eyes flashed angrily in return. Cheeks flushed red. The infuriated girl's voice rose accusingly as she finally found enough breath to speak. "Who left the window open?"

Rosie's eyes dropped to the wooden floor boards, guiltily. "The atmosphere was stifling."

Carter grumbled something unintelligible then suddenly strode across the room towards her. "Were you bit?"

Rosie tilted her chin. "I beg your pardon?"

"Were you bitten? By the raccoon?" Carter asked, drawing the words out more slowly.

Rosie started to shake her head. "I-I am unharmed."

Carter stomped her foot as she stood in front of Rosie. Her eyes flicked over the prim princess from head to foot. "Let me see."

Too dumbfounded to protest, Rosie put her makeup case under one arm and stuck out her hands, allowing Carter to examine each one.

"Alright. No bites or scratches." Carter released Rosie's wrists. Her voice no longer sounded angry. "You never know. Those things can carry rabies and they've got a nasty bite."

Rosie gulped nervously. "What would happen if I had been bitten?"

"You'd need shots," Carter replied, bluntly.

Rosie pursed her lips. "You took a risk to save me. Carter, I--"

Carter waved her off, dismissing her words. "Don't mention it." She crinkled her nose and sniffed. "See another one, get away from it. You got that?"

"I shall." She now wished she had listened more closely to Major Mason's lecture about the wild creatures living in the area. Carter obviously knew a lot about them. "What was it?" Rosie ventured to ask.

"A raccoon." Carter scoffed, watching the question surface in Rosie's eyes. Eyebrows arched. "Let me guess. Never seen a raccoon before?"

Rosie shook her head. "No. That is why we have—"

"Henry," Carter finished, remembering Rosie's prim explanation about her wariness for lizards. "Yeah, the royal pest control wrangler. I sure could use one of those right now." Carter shifted from one foot to the other, restlessly. "What were you doing up anyways?"

"You said you kept some of your extras clothes in here. I wished to explore my options without disturbing your rest. I thought I might choose an outfit to wear tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" The thought made Carter remember how much sleep she had lost. She stifled a yawn. "Bad timing. Go back to bed."

Rosie frowned. "But I…"

"Go back to bed!" Carter snapped, hopping out the door. As the adrenaline drained from her system, a neglected need came to the fore. She had put it off as she searched for the missing princess and now nature refused to wait any longer.

Rosie listened as Carter thundered up the stairs. Carter's voice echoed down to her. "And you better be there when I get back."

With a resigned sigh, Rosie returned to the bedroom. She set her makeup case on the window seat, lifted up her covers, and climbed under the sheets. Her mind raced, wondering how Carter could save her from a ferocious creature and then almost act like nothing had happened. There was more to Carter Mason than met the eye. The girl was a conundrum, but curiosity sparked a desire to uncover the pieces and view the whole picture.

She concentrated, closing her eyes, so she was unaware her rescuer had returned until she heard the mattress creak nearby. Eyes popped back open as a new worry sprang to mind. "Carter Mason?"

The muffled reply came directly. "What?"

"We made a lot of commotion just now," Rosie mused.

"Yeah."

"Where is your father?"

The mattress crunched as Carter sat up on her elbows and turned towards her questioner. "My dad's an agent."

"Yes?"

"So, that never fully leaves his system. Even when he's home." Carter lay flat again, plucking at her sheets. "He's probably out checking the perimeter or something. He does that."

"You and your father are very close?"

"Yeah."

"Will you tell him about the raccoon?"

"What is this? Twenty questions? Forget the raccoon, okay? We usually don't have to worry about them." Carter rolled over, facing away from the princess. She spoke into her pillow. "I need to sleep."

"Oh yes. Of course." Rosie's eyelids felt heavy. She allowed them to close, but something still needed to be said. "Carter?"

The faint reply almost didn't reach her ears. "Hmph."

"Goodnight." Rosie felt herself beginning to drift off, so she whispered, infusing her voice with all the gratitude the mere words alone could not express. "Thank you."

No reply.

Stillness filled the room, punctuated only by the sound of soft breathing.

* * *

Dressed for school, she had opted to wear a brown-hooded sleeveless vest over a red shirt and jeans. Carter stumbled sleepily to the kitchen the next morning, a morning that came all too soon, and did a double take.

_How did she do that?_

Rosie sat at the kitchen island counter, eyeing an overripe banana with disdain. What struck Carter was the way she was dressed. The girl had tied a ribbon in her hair and wore it stylishly. She was also wearing a buttoned blue shirt over a butter yellow shirt with jeans. Gold hoops hung from her ears. The sunny yellows and bright blue colors of the ensemble tied together so well and fit perfectly.

She looked like a princess. Not a royal princess, but like the princesses Carter faced daily at school. The ones who drove fancy cars purchased for them by their rich dads and looked down their noses at Carter because her dad owned a bait shop. Like the ones who knew how to wear the perfect designer outfit and yet, Rosie was wearing such an eye-catching outfit, never having even taken the trip to the store.

Carter was certain those clothes had never looked that good on her and felt betrayed. After all, they were _her_ clothes.

It wasn't fair.

"Good morning," Rosie greeted, noticing her presence as Carter finally entered the kitchen.

"Hey." Carter avoided making eye contact. She focused on grabbing a container of donuts. Her father entered the kitchen the moment after she did and they began their morning ritual of the Mason family breakfast.

As far as Rosie could tell, this ritual amounted to noisily opening cupboards and the refrigerator, tossing food haphazardly onto the counter, and then shoveling it down their throats.

Carter chugged furiously on the milk carton and chomped down on cereal.

A loud horn sounded from up the road.

"Bus is here." Carter wiped away the milk dribbling down her chin, and then slid a backpack up onto her shoulder, still munching on her last bite of cereal.

"You sure you don't want a ride?" Mason offered, no doubt remembering Carter's failed attempt to get a ride to school with Donny.

"Yeah. I'll be fine." Carter turned to Rosie who hadn't moved. "You coming?"

Rosie looked perplexed. "Where are we going?"

The Louisiana teen shoved a second backpack into Rosie's arms, shaking her head as if she couldn't believe she had to explain something so simple. "School!"_ What did Rosie think normal American teenagers did on a weekday? _"You're sixteen. You go to school."

"School," Rosie echoed, recognition filling her eyes. Major Mason had mentioned this to her earlier. She felt a bit silly for having forgotten about it. "Of course."

"We can't all have private tutors. So you better run, 'cause the bus doesn't wait," Carter called out.

The door slammed as Carter ran outside and Rosie rose to her feet and began to follow. _This was it._ She would do this for her mother and her country. And for the man who had so kindly protected her and taken her under his wing. He had stayed by her side when she was confused and afraid. She wanted to show her gratitude by performing this new task. She would try not to let anyone down. She turned back towards Major Mason and smiled affectionately. "Goodbye." She stepped out the door, jumping a little as it shut loudly behind her.

Carter was already climbing up the steps of the yellow school bus.

"Who is this now?" asked Helen, the bus driver.

Carter turned to look back over her shoulder and her jaw dropped. Rosie came running, if what she was doing could even be categorized as running, daintily up to the bus. Yes, daintily! The day had barely started and Rosie was not blending in, not by a long shot.

Operation: _Princess Impossible_ commenced. "Oh, that's just…uh, my cousin," Carter replied.

"You don't say," Helen remarked.

Rosie waited at the door, listening to their verbal exchange. "Hello," she said, politely. "I am Rosie," she introduced herself with certainty and without pauses or stutters. She was so proud of herself she mentally cheered.

"I am late." The bus driver's voice brought the disguised princess out of her momentary triumph. "Go ahead and grab a seat, as quick as you can."

Carter had already stretched out in a seat, leaving no room for anyone else. Her instincts were telling her that if she got through this day without dying of embarrassment, it would take a miracle. But, maybe no one would notice anything odd about Rosie. Maybe the girl might actually blend in. Maybe Carter was worrying for nothing.

Rosie climbed onto the bus and began picking her way down the aisle.

The bus lurched forward.

Rosie yelped as the momentum threw her sideways.

Carter watched and sighed as the girl landed on the seat in front of her.

She really needed a miracle.


	8. Blending In

**Disclaimer:** Princess Protection Program and its characters belong to the Disney Channel and are borrowed here for the purposes of free entertainment.

**aphelion1220**_: Aww, thanks. *grinning* I do too!_

**i am indistructible **_and _**TinkoTheGreat**_: It's awesome you reviewed every chapter so far. You're marvelous:) You make me update faster.  
_

**CR**_: Don't know if this is what you were asking: After the Prologue, I decided not to emphasize the timeline, but Chapter 1 starts out with Carter in the second grade. Then, in the scene with Bull the words, "The rumor mill spun all summer and into the new school year" place Carter in the third grade where she remains throughout Chapter 2. __Thanks for asking and commenting!_

**_A/N:_** _Unlike Spanish, I don't speak or write French (though I'd love to learn it someday), so most of the French is translated into English, but spoken in French.

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_Chapter Eight: Blending In_

Rosie was beginning to think that Carter didn't like her.

Her goal of getting to know Carter Mason immediately hit a brick wall. The sullen teen had barely uttered two words during the entire bus ride despite Rosie's multiple attempts to initiate a conversation.

As soon as the bus halted at Lake Monroe High School, Carter rose to her feet and darted towards the front of the bus without saying a word. Rosie followed quickly, anticipation building. She had never had the opportunity to mingle with so many of her own age. And the sixteen year-old, embarking on her first day of public school, felt giddy.

The sun shone brightly overhead and the wind blew, ruffling her hair as she stepped off the bus into the open air.

The moment she set foot on the sidewalk, a camera lens thrust towards her and a boy's jesting voice came from behind it. "Maybe this is the queen?"

Rosie smiled up at the video camera as she continued to walk. She was accustomed to being followed by the media and the best way to deal with cameras often was to befriend their operators. "Well, technically no," Rosie replied, modestly. "Not yet anyway."

The head of a dark-haired boy popped out from behind the camera lens. His bangs fell in his eyes, reminding her of a sheep dog. "Nice. Honest. I like it," he said, appreciatively. He fell into walking beside her, stumbling once as the top of his head caught a low-hanging tree branch. His right hand tightened on the camera protectively as he regained his balance. No doubt he towered over most of the students at Lake Monroe, but he seemed to be a gentle giant. "I'm Ed, by the way." With all the enthusiasm of a puppy, he matched Rosie's pace, bending to offer her a handshake. "And you're?"

She accepted his friendly handshake and introduction. "Rosie."

"Rosie," Ed repeated, delighted to have gained a new audience. "I'm making a documentary." Ed began to gush about his pet film project and Rosie tried to listen, but her concentration was split. Carter hadn't stopped to wait for her and Rosie was beginning to wonder if she should politely excuse herself in order to catch up. But that's when Ed's words arrested her full attention.

She turned to him with renewed interest. "The queen of homecoming? What is this homecoming?" Rosie inquired_. Homecoming_. The word alone intrigued her and she now had a strong desire to know more on the subject.

Ed's mouth twisted with surprise. "You don't…You've never heard of homecoming?"

"No," Rosie replied, unabashedly. "We have no such thing where I am from."

That remark fed Ed's curiosity. "Really? Where's that?"

Rosie felt a sudden pressure on her back. Ed disappeared from view as an arm snaked behind her shoulders, turning her towards the building and Carter was speaking in a loud voice right next to her.

"Oh, um. That's from Iowa. She's…" Carter racked her brains, because even she knew that Ed would figure out they did have homecoming in the state of Iowa. Then, Carter had a stroke of brilliance. "She's homeschooled. In Iowa. But she's here so.…" Carter trailed off, feeling no need to add anything else especially since Ed appeared to be accepting her words at face value.

Rosie listened in silence as the taller girl spat out her explanation. Carter's hand rested on Rosie's shoulder, pushing her forward. Then, Carter's voice hissed in her ear. "What are you doing?" As the distance grew between them and Ed, Carter let go, but walked directly behind her, urging her to keep moving.

The question confused Rosie. Wasn't the answer obvious? "I am going to school."

Carter paused beside her now. "Yes! And you're supposed to act like a normal American girl."

Rosie blinked. Was Carter scolding her? "I thought I was," Rosie began as they both moved onwards down the walk.

Carter frowned. "You just about spilled the beans back there. Act normal. That means you stay undercover. You don't give people reason to ask any questions. Don't call any unnecessary attention to yourself. Keep a low profile. You're supposed to blend in!"

"I am trying."

"Well, try harder," Carter admonished and then walked on ahead of her.

Rosie followed her silently. She almost had to run to keep up. She did not appreciate the tone of Carter's words and now pride prevented her from asking Carter to slow down. If Rosie didn't know better, she'd swear Carter was trying to lose her. Rosie jogged through the school hallways, arriving at class only a few strides behind Carter, but had to wait as other students walked through the door ahead of the princess.

This was different. No announcements and fanfare. No curtseys or bows. The students hardly glanced at her as they moved on by. She lingered in the doorway for a moment after entering, embracing and savoring this new feeling. Being utterly unknown.

As she walked into the classroom, Rosie immediately recognized Ed and his camera. The boy had a look of adoration on his face and she followed it to note Carter. His camera focused on Carter. Rosie raised her eyebrows at this discovery; she suspected that Ed's random filming as their bus had arrived hadn't been so random after all. She studied Carter's face to see if she had noticed Ed's attentiveness, but the American girl was too busy shoving Ed into the empty desk beside hers, effectively eliminating any chance that Rosie might sit there.

_Try harder. _Carter's words rung like a challenge in her mind_. _Rosie took a deep breath, swallowing the apprehension she'd felt upon entering a roomful of students that were strangers to her. She'd show Carter how good she was at being normal. She had a few tricks up her sleeve.

She scanned the class and then turned her attention to the sound of merry chatter coming from the very front row. A dark-haired, handsome-looking boy sat on top of his desk, talking animatedly with a fair-haired boy in the next row. His back was towards her. Rosie cleared her throat. "Excuse me. May I have this seat?"

Carter watched as Rosie came up behind Donny and tapped him on the shoulder. If anything, Donny had grown even cooler and more popular over the years. And Rosie, new student status Rosie, dared talk to him-dared to ask him give up to his seat for her?

_Unbelievable!_

As could be expected Donny didn't even bother to turn around. A smart remark flew from his lips, loud enough for his buddy, Bull, and the rest of the class to hear. Then, Donny turned and saw Rosie for the first time and it became a different story entirely.

Rosie stood waiting patiently for his reply. Having grabbed his attention, she met his eyes and flashed a charming smile.

The smirk fell from Donny's face and his whole demeanor changed. He quit laughing.

Carter's pulse quickened. _No, no, no. This couldn't be!_ Donny looked at Rosie and a dumb grin appeared on his tan face. He was gazing at Rosie in a way he had never, ever looked at Carter in all these years. Carter's mouth fell open in shock as Donny removed his school bag from the front row desk. The coolest guy in school had melted into a puddle of goo after a single smile.

"Yeah," Donny said, huskily. "Sure."

Bull must have been mirroring Carter's surprise at Donny's uncharacteristic behavior, for seconds later, Carter heard Donny whisper in his friend's direction. "What? She's hot." Maybe it wasn't so uncharacteristic after all.

Thankfully, Carter didn't have much time to squirm over what her long-time crush thought of Princess Charming. Mademoiselle Devereux, the slender blonde teacher, glided into the classroom and greeted the class in French.

Whoever had scheduled French as the first class of the day must have been playing some cruel joke on the student body of Lake Monroe. The class groaned and mumbled an unenthusiastic greeting.

Rosie perked up. She had always been taught to give her tutors the utmost attention and respect. She smiled brightly and projected her voice as she replied confidently in fluent French. "_Comment allez-vous aujourd'hui_?"

All hints of boredom fled from her frame as the teacher turned to peer at Rosie through her spectacles. "Oh," the French woman exclaimed in her lilting accent, noting the new face. "This must be our new student, Carter Mason's cousin."

Several students' heads swiveled to find Carter. Carter shrank in her seat and avoided looking at anyone.

"_Avez-vous __étudié_ le français, Rosie?" the teacher questioned.

All eyes were on Rosie.

Rosie beamed even more brightly at this opportunity to make a good impression. Accustomed to switching from one language to another several times throughout the day, it felt strangely constricting to be locked into one. She hadn't a clue Carter knew any French until today.

Yet, now she was free to soar.

Rosie dove easily into speaking French, first expounding on her love for the language, then she continued, "It is a beautiful language. I speak six languages: English, French, Spanish, Portuguese, Italian, and Japanese." She might have stopped there, but aware that Carter was also listening, Rosie grinned and continued. "But English is my favorite because I am American. Have you enjoyed living in the United States, Mademoiselle Devereux?"

The French teacher had clear delight written all over her face. "_Oui._ _Merci_, Rosie."

The whole class was staring at the back of Rosie's head, some with awe and disbelief, some with clear envy and annoyance written on their faces. Someone behind Carter muttered, "Is she for real?"

Carter hadn't understood all of Rosie's speech, but she was pretty sure Rosie had listed all the different languages she could speak. Carter counted six.

Rosie never looked back, blissfully unaware of her classmates' reactions.

Carter caught a few glares directed towards her because, _oh yeah_, they believed she was Rosie's cousin. Pink burned her cheeks. Carter's head plopped to her desk, resisting the urge to pound her fists against it. Never had she wished so hard to disappear. This was worse than she could have imagined. _What part of keeping a low profile did Rosie not understand? _It couldn't be that hard to stay invisible…It's what Carter had been for most of her high school career_._

Carter decided it was time to implement a new plan if only for the sake of her sanity.

When class ended, Carter walked up and tapped Rosie's shoulder, interrupting her conversation with the impressed French teacher. Rosie turned to Carter as they moved together towards the door. "I like school," she announced.

"You would," Carter responded without surprise. "There's a lot you still need to learn."

She handed Rosie a crumpled piece of a paper. "This is your class schedule. Same as mine. If we get separated, you just follow it. Has the room numbers, teachers' names, and everything. Got that?"

Rosie nodded, eagerly glancing over the classes to come. They entered the buzzing hall together and Carter could only imagine what her classmates must be discussing about them during this brief break.

Rosie glanced sideways at Carter. "I think I did fairly well blending in."

"_That_, what you did back there wasn't blending in," Carter objected. "Your hand went up every time the teacher asked a question."

"If I know the answer to a question, should I not answer it? Is that not expected?"

Carter grimaced. "You don't want to look like a know-it-all."

"Nor like a fool," Rosie replied, smoothly.

"You don't understand. This is high school. We have to be here everyday. I have to be here everyday. It matters what people think."

Rosie considered her reply. "I believe my academic progress should be more important than what anyone else thinks of me."

Carter groaned, tapping her forehead. "This is why you need my help!"

"I am not helpless." Rosie pursed her lips, feeling insulted. "Left to my own devices I can be quite self-sufficient."

"Oh really? Sure about that?"

Rosie's chin tilted upwards as she nodded. "Yes."

Carter paused before a bank of lockers. Her fingers spun the dial expertly. A click sounded as the tumblers fell in place and the locker door popped open.

"This is my locker. We share it until you get your own." Carter pulled out a gel ink pen from its interior. "Now, give me your hand."

Rosie submitted, but tried to pull away as the pen tip tickled her palm. "Why?"

"It washes off," Carter reassured. "And this way you won't lose it. Just don't smear it, okay?"

Rosie relaxed and opened her hand. Carter quickly scribbled a set of numbers down in purple ink. "That's the locker combination. Don't show it to anyone or else all our stuff might get stolen. Now, give me your bag." Rosie relinquished this without protest. "Most of the time you keep it in here and carry only what you need." Carter shuffled through the bag, sorting out only the items Rosie would need and then quickly stowed the rest in the locker.

Rosie stood still as Carter placed a couple books in her bag and then handed it to her once again.

"That should do it." Carter nodded with satisfaction. She grabbed her own books, dropping these in her bag, and then shut her locker. She slung her backpack back over her shoulder. "So, the girls' bathroom is that way. The cafeteria's over there. And, if you need anything else, ask at the office. It's back over where we first came in."

Rosie's eyes flicked in the different directions Carter had pointed. Her eyes came back to rest on Carter as she wondered why the standoffish girl had suddenly chosen to be so communicative. Like treading across precarious ground knowing each second it might drop out from underneath your feet, something about this didn't feel right.

Carter smirked. "Think you can remember all of that, Miss Independent?"

Rosie opened her mouth to reply, but Carter only nodded as if she had and gave her a thumbs up.

"Good. See ya in class."

Rosie's brown eyes widened as Carter rounded a corner of the hallway abruptly and left her.

Rosie sputtered and rounded the corner too, but it was already too late.

Carter had vanished from sight.


	9. Don't Look Back

**Disclaimer:** Princess Protection Program and its characters belong to the Disney Channel and are borrowed here for the purposes of free entertainment.

**Summary:** When something is broken, it's hard to put it back together again. Carter never let anyone get to close. Her life is disrupted by Rosie, the optimistic princess in hiding won't stop asking questions, forcing Carter to face her fears of the past.

_**A/N:** I've been running a writing marathon in order to get this updated today because I appreciate my readers and I love this story so much. Nine pages. Enjoy!

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_Chapter Nine: Don't Look Back_

Carter couldn't understand it.

She hadn't had a moment's peace since this princess had been introduced into her life, yet she felt anxious. Having escaped from the royal presence, Carter should be enjoying every moment away from her. She should be celebrating.

She wasn't.

She tapped the eraser of her pencil on the desk and found her eyes wandering toward the open door. Class had already commenced and Rosie hadn't shown up yet.

_Probably lost._

The class buzzed quietly. Mister Harding, the Creative Writing teacher lifted a clipboard and began to take roll. He had green eyes, scruffy dark blond hair and a clipped beard. He wore a black polo and blue jeans. He held the reputation of being one of the "cool" teachers. Mister Harding knew most of the students in the class by name, so he took roll silently.

Carter tore her eyes away from the door, but they stubbornly darted to the ticking clock on the wall. Rosie still had not appeared. If she didn't come soon she'd be marked absent. Carter frowned. _And_ s_he said she didn't need me._

Mister Harding hesitated over a name. "Carter Mason? Is Carter Mason here?"

Carter waved her pencil. "I'm right here!" she called from her seat.

"Oh?" Mister Harding replied, looking at her as if for the first time and erasing something on the clipboard. "You were so quiet," he apologized.

Carter sighed. Harding could be a bit feather-brained. This wouldn't have been the first time she was marked absent on a day that she was actually here.

It looked like Harding was reaching the end of the list. New names were always added in at the bottom. The teacher cleared his throat and the classroom buzz lowered in response. Students straightened in their seats and faced front, listening with curiosity. "Rosie González?" Harding asked. "Is Rosie González here?"

"Yes, I am Rosie González." The voice rang clearly from the doorway.

Carter nearly jumped in her chair. She glanced quickly at Rosie and spotted another student discreetly retreating back into the hallway.

Carter smirked and stared at her pencil. _Ha! So, she asked for directions_.

"You're late, Miss González."

Carter rolled her eyes. Teachers did have a knack for stating the obvious.

"I am sorry, Mister..." Rosie's eyes slid down to the scribbled schedule in her hand. "Harding. I had trouble finding my way."

"You were lost," Harding said, rhetorically. "Now that, class, could make for an interesting story. Here's a book for you, Miss González. Be on time in future. Find a seat." Just like Mademoiselle Devereux's class, Harding saw no need to assign seats.

Carter pretended to study her eraser. She listened to the footfalls on the tile as shoes squeaked right past her, but she didn't look up.

Chairs were not attached to the desks in this classroom. Rosie kept walking until she found the desk nearest the front. The chair groaned as Rosie slid it back and settled into it.

Harding stood up and hopped up onto his desk, dangling his legs. He clapped his hands together and gestured with them, pointing at the students.

"Alright, class. For your next assignment I want you to take a moment in your life and write about it. Not just any moment, an important moment in your life. Maybe you fell in love or got your driver's license. Make it something that was a turning point. A milestone. Life-changing. Write about it, make into a story if you wish or write a play. But be creative! It's due in two weeks." The teacher opened his lesson plan binder. "Alright, now let's take out our poetry books. Langston Hughes. _A Dream Deferred._ Can I have a volunteer to read that?"

Carter squeezed her pencil.

Harding's eyes twinkled as a hand shot up. "Miss González?"

"Thank you, Mister Harding, I shall be happy to read the verses."

The pencil snapped and one half went flying across the room, missing Harding by mere centimeters. It fell to the floor, rolling by his foot. The teacher, with his nose currently stuck in the poetry book, failed to notice.

Carter cringed.

"Um, wonderful." Harding nodded at Rosie as some of the students chuckled. "Please begin."

Once again, Carter lowered her head to her desk in shame.

If this happened every class period, lunch couldn't come quickly enough.

* * *

The scents of the cafeteria assailed her delicate nostrils making her mouth water. Her neglected appetite returned with a vengeance. The princess clutched her stomach as it gurgled loudly. For just a moment, she lost sight of Carter who had entered the cafeteria ahead of her. Since getting lost that first time, Rosie had spent the day trailing Carter from class to class. Carter must have noticed her new shadow, but ignored it.

Rosie remained undeterred.

She strode into the bustling cafeteria, scanning it purposefully. She spotted Carter and studied the way the American student held a plastic tray and obtained items of food from the various tables and dispensers. _So that is how a cafeteria worked, yes? No __problema__._

She grabbed a red plastic tray from a stack and hurried into the line of people to follow Carter_._

"No cuts." The blond-haired boy from French class blocked her path, scowling. "That's the rules. No cuts."

All her life she had consistently striven to follow the rules. "Of course. Then, I will not cuts," Rosie replied, hoping to mask her ignorance as she nodded at him. Wasn't he called Bull? At least, she did not think it was his real name. Seeing as she was not well acquainted enough to ask him the origins of his name, she felt grateful when Bull's friend tapped him on the shoulder silently asking him to move aside.

"Rosie. Come on up with me," Donny invited.

Rosie used the opening to pass Bull whose expression reminded her of a look she sometimes saw on Carter's face.

What was it that made Carter Mason so unhappy? This was the mystery she wanted to unravel, but she was distracted by the sights of fruits, salads, juices and something called a hamburger which seemed highly preferable over anything called _carne misteriosa. _Idly, Rosie wondered what made the meat such a mystery.

Her stomach murmured again and all mysteries, small and great, faded from her mind.

* * *

Carter's lunch tray slapped the table. Before Carter's unceremonious arrival, Rosie had been its sole occupant. Carter's tone sounded accusatory. "What are you doing?"

"Eating a hamburger," Rosie calmly informed Carter. The newcomer gracefully wielded a plastic knife and fork as if they were sterling silver. "Have you ever tried one?"

"Yes!" Carter made a mental note to make sure Rosie got a book on Iowa…and maybe a book on typical American cuisine would also come in handy. Carter responded in a low voice only Rosie could hear. "FYI, they have hamburgers in Iowa."

"Oh." The smile disappeared from Rosie's lips as she assimilated this information. "Right."

"You're supposed to be blending in." Carter sighed with impatience.

From the expression on the girl's face, Carter could tell (even before Rosie protested the opposite), that the princess didn't have a clue what blending in truly meant. If Rosie required evidence of her transgression, Carter lost no time in providing it. "Speaking fluent French in class and eating a hamburger like you're having tea with the queen."

Rosie quirked an eyebrow and, the next time she spoke, appeared to utterly ignore Carter's complaints. "Has the exercise finished, Carter Mason?"

Struck speechless for a moment (because didn't ignoring someone's remarks break some kind of princess protocol), Carter finally managed to gasp. "Exercise?"

Carter's dark eyebrows knit in confusion. The only reason she had joined Rosie at the lunch table was to try and prevent more embarrassment. Snickers were already coming from the direction of the lunch table where the popular kids, including Donny, sat gawking at how Rosie had laid out her lunch as if it were a fancy dinner. Hadn't Rosie noticed that none of the other students used their napkins like mini tablecloths? However, Carter's mission had been completely diverted by this change in topic.

Rosie gazed at Carter encouragingly. "Yes. The confidence building exercise. Since you are addressing me again, may I assume it is completed?"

Carter gripped the edge of the table. "What do you mean?" Rosie didn't seriously think that Carter's hasty departure earlier was a confidence building exercise, did she? Of course not, Rosie might be a nuisance, but the girl spoke six languages--her intelligence could not be denied.

"Is it finished?" Rosie repeated, earnestly looking at her.

Uncertainty fled. Eyes locked as Carter met Rosie's gaze and Carter _knew_; she knew without a doubt that Rosie understood exactly what Carter had been doing when she'd left Rosie to fend for herself.

Carter still possessed an innate ability to read people and she could spot no anger in Rosie's eyes. There was acceptance, perhaps a hint of hurt, but mostly hope sparkled, intermingled with a readiness to put the incident behind them.

Rosie was the true outsider, but it was the Louisiana native who felt oddly out of place.

Carter felt lost. She expected lashing out. She expected resentment. She expected retaliation, but it felt idiotic to go war if you were the only one standing on the battlefield.

Carter opened her mouth and took in a breath of much needed air. She didn't know why Rosie was willing to forgive her so readily. "Um, yeah." She watched Rosie warily. "I guess."

"Very good. Shall I tell you what I learned from my experience?"

Carter couldn't imagine what Rosie was about to say. "Go for it."

"It is good to be independent, but we should never let pride get in the way of asking for help. Sometimes, all of us need a little. Thank you for helping me understand that today, Carter."

Guilt stabbed Carter. Dark brown eyes skipped away from the unfaltering warm russet gaze to stare at the table. How could Rosie be grateful to her after all of this? A knot had slipped and the cloak of anger Carter wrapped tightly around herself no longer choked. She had lost her grip on its familiar strings.

"Well?" Rosie's calm voice pulled Carter's dark gaze back up to her own. Carter's earlier complaint had not been forgotten. Changing the tone of their conversation, the princess directed attention to the hamburger on her plate. "How else should it be eaten?"

Carter welcomed this change. She surveyed how Rosie had prepared to eat her burger and shook her head. _All wrong._ "Like this," she responded, reaching over Rosie's tray and sliding the bun off the beef patty. She threw half of Rosie's salad toppings (mostly pickles, lettuce and tomatoes) onto it, slathered on mustard and ketchup in record time plus a handful of crushed potato chips for added crunch. Her father didn't call her the "Burger Expert" for nothing. "The works." Carter replaced the bun, squashing it a little with an extra pat.

Then, she picked up the burger from her own platter to demonstrate, lacing her fingers across the bun and waited as Rosie reluctantly put aside the plastic cutlery.

If there existed a ridiculously proper way to eat a burger, trust Rosie to find it. Rosie lifted the burger from her plate, pinkies up.

"Mmph!" Carter snorted at this display and let her meal drop back to her plate. "Stop." She placed her hands over Rosie's grasp, pressing the pinkies down, curling them to grip the bun. "Now," Carter urged, grabbing up her own hamburger once more. A small smile of amusement graced her lips as she watched Rosie take a careful bite and begin to chew.

Warm brown eyes lit up with delight. Yellow mustard and bright red ketchup coated Rosie's lips as they turned up into a smile and her eyes closed halfway. "Like this?"

Carter couldn't help it. A genuine grin spread across her face as she caught Rosie's excitement. A tiny laugh escaped her throat as she picked up a napkin and passed it to the condiment-covered princess. "It's perfect."

* * *

It was too perfect to last.

"Carter! Carter!" Rosie called for what seemed like the fifteenth time. She hadn't known when she asked the straightforward question at lunchtime about Principal Burkle's homecoming announcement that the result would lead to such distress.

"_The three girls with the most votes will become your homecoming princesses."_

_That sentence intrigued Rosie. "You vote for royalty here?" she asked Carter._

"_We're a democracy. We're into voting."_

"_Then, anyone can be a princess. Even you?"_

"_Theoretically."_

Carter refused to look or speak to her on the bus ride home. The angry teen sprang off the bus as soon as it came to a halt.

Rosie didn't know what else to do. She had tried asking nicely. Right now, she was simply begging simply for Carter to stop and talk with her. Anything other than this cold shoulder treatment would be preferred because Rosie felt like a dry, shriveled leaf about to be blown away by this arctic chill.

She had been chasing Carter for half the day and now they had reached home, there was nothing stopping Carter from disappearing somewhere on the property. Desperate, Rosie called out. "I order you to stop!"

Carter finally turned towards Rosie as if she had been physically slapped. Fire burned in her dark brown eyes. "You order me?" Carter took two steps towards her, stomping her feet. "You order me! I order you to take a long walk off a short pier!"

She had exercised restraint, but now Carter's words ignited her temper. The apology Rosie had been trying to give fled her brain in the wake of injured feelings. She crossed her arms and tilted her head imperiously. "_You_ cannot order _me_ to do _anything_!"

"Wanna bet? You're in my kingdom now," Carter proclaimed, planting her feet firmly and clenching her fists.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! What's going on here?" Sensing tension in the air, Major Mason jogged down the steps of the Bait Shack and then stopped to take up a stance between them. It wouldn't look good if his own daughter punched the princess he was protecting in the face.

Carter waved an arm and spoke as if telling on a naughty child. "She can't do it, Dad! She can't act normal!"

Rosie inclined her head toward Mason, but looked icily at Carter. "I am normal."

"Really?" Carter challenged. She turned toward her dad. "So a normal person has never seen a hamburger before, but can order one in six languages?"

"Really?" Mason asked, so impressed that he got distracted from the point. "You did that?"

"I always speak to my staff in their native tongue," Rosie replied, proudly.

"They're not staff," Carter explained, exasperated. "They're lunch ladies. If you keep going on like this, you're going to wind up—"

"Carter!" her father reprimanded, cutting her off.

Carter checked her tongue, but not her temper. "Dad! Can't you see this isn't gonna work?"

"It'll work, Carter," he insisted. "We just have to give it time."

Carter huffed, threw her hands up, and stomped away in the direction of the cabin.

"It'll work," Joe Mason repeated, trying to convince himself. He noted Rosie was still standing nearby. "Something I can help you with, Rosie?"

Rosie uncrossed her arms, staring in the direction of the house. She glanced over at Mason. "Pardon?"

Mason smiled at Rosie. He squinted. "Did anything else happen at school today?" he pried.

"Many things." Rosie paused, debating her next words. "Major Mason, I have a perplexing problem. I hope you might be able to assist me."

"Sure, Rosie. But first things first, here everyone calls me Joe. If you think that's too informal, well Mister Mason is fine. Now, what can I help you with?"

"It's Carter."

Mason cocked an eyebrow as if he should have guessed. "What did she do?"

Rosie hastened to take any blame off of his daughter. "N-nothing. She is helping me at school. I am learning to blend in."

His shoulders relaxed. "Glad to hear it. You wanna sit?" He started back towards the Bait Shop.

Assenting, Rosie followed him up its steps. There were currently no customers hanging around. They sat down at one of the wooden tables and Rosie continued. "I was wondering, Major--Mister Mason. What things does Carter like? I believe I may have offended her. She doesn't seem to like me very much at the moment and I wish to mend the situation."

Knowing his daughter's moods, Mason decided he needed more information. "Do you know what you did?"

"I was only trying to be helpful. I believe Carter possesses great potential."

Mason had dealt with enough princesses to ask, "And what potential is that?"

Rosie looked out at the lake and shielded her eyes as the bright sunlight shone off the water. "I nominated her to be queen of homecoming."

"Homecoming queen?" Mason grinned widely. He hopped up and opened a small refrigerator. "Thank you, Rosie. That's great! You wanna a soda or juice?"

"An orange juice, please?" asked Rosie, politely. She had picked out juice at lunch, but never had the chance to drink it.

Mason set a bottle of juice in front of her and settled once more with a root beer in his hands. The cold bottles immediately frosted in the afternoon heat.

Rosie removed the cap from her bottle, shaking her head with a sigh. "Carter does not think it is great. Besides that outburst you just witnessed, she refuses to speak with me."

Mason gave Rosie an encouraging smile. "Don't worry about that too much, Rosie. It takes Carter a while to warm up to new people. Give her some time to cool off."

"Cool off so she can warm up? How long does it usually take?" Rosie asked, gravely.

"What do you mean?"

"For her to warm up?" Rosie appeared to be waiting for a cup and when none were presented, she raised the bottle and took a careful sip. The tangy cool liquid flowed onto her tongue, cooling her throat. She hadn't realized how thirsty she was until now. Her second sip lasted longer.

Joe scratched his head, trying to remember. "Um, can't say. It's been a long time since Carter's had anyone new in her life."

"I am not surprised," Rosie said in a serious manner acquired from spending so much time with adults. "She seems resistant to change and to trying something new."

Mason tapped the table gently with his knuckles. "Carter had to deal with a lot when she was very young. It was hard on her. But, do you want to know something, Rosie? I think you're good for her."

"I am?" Confusion furrowed her brow. She looked steadily at Mason in puzzlement as if measuring his words. She decided he was not joking. "How is that possible? When she gets so mad at me?"

"You push her out of her comfort zone. You make her change her routine. And if she gets mad, at least it means she cares about something. Just keep doing what you're doing, Rosie. It'll be okay."

Rosie took another long sip of juice, emptying the bottle. One of the regular customers arrived. Finished with her beverage, Rosie thanked Mason for his advice and headed back into the house.

Carter sat at her desk working on her computer and didn't acknowledge Rosie when she entered the bedroom.

Rosie took a spot in the window seat and began to pore over her schoolwork. She gave Carter space making no attempts to converse with the other girl until Mason called them both for dinner.

As his daughter bolted for the kitchen, Rosie didn't even have to ask what was on tonight's menu.

Carter Mason never refused pizza.


	10. Falling Apart

**Disclaimer:** Princess Protection Program and its characters belong to the Disney Channel and are borrowed here for the purposes of free entertainment.

**Summary:** When something is broken, it's hard to put it back together again. Carter never let anyone get to close. Her life is disrupted by Rosie, the optimistic princess in hiding won't stop asking questions, forcing Carter to face her fears of the past.

**Genre:** Drama/Friendship

_**A/N:** Greetings, dear readers! Thanks for your comments and eagerness for this story. We're almost to one of my favorite parts.  
_

* * *

_Chapter 10: Falling Apart_

Moonlight bathed the room the two girls shared. One slept peacefully. The other sat in the window seat, ignoring the soft mattress that awaited her, lost in the recesses of her own musings.

Fear danced in the corners of her mind and its footfalls chased away much needed sleep.

Voicing her concerns to Major Mason had helped, but also reminded her of issues she had hitherto kept pressed to the back of her mind. The occupation of school kept her mind away from such worry during the day, the strange newness of the Mason household activities fascinated Rosie through the afternoon and evening, but at night everything changed. It was easy to build up walls of optimism during the day when the sun shone so brightly. At night all those carefully raised hopes wavered like a house of cards ready to come crashing down in the dark.

Thoughts invaded her mind, flooding it with images, sensations, and emotions. The smell of the Costa Luna breeze laced with the salty tang of the ocean. The last words she had ever heard her father speak to her. The tears in her mother's eyes and the crackle of gun shots as Rosie had fled. Fear. Confusion. Sorrow.

Somehow, she had managed to keep all at bay, but Carter's words earlier had opened a hole in a dam which now stood in danger of bursting.

She already missed her father. What if she lost her mother too?

What if Carter was right? What if this didn't work?

_What if she failed?_

Something wet tickled the tip of her nose and Rosie swiped a finger across it, collecting a single teardrop on her fingertip. She held it up and the crystalline drop glistened in the pale blue moonlight trailing through the window. She sniffed sharply, but more unbidden tears trickled down her nose and cheeks turning into a salty stream along her chin. The tears fell silently into the pillow that lay across her lap. She sobbed quietly as she thought about her mother and how an ocean separated them. Costa Luna seemed so far away and Rosie felt so very small in comparison and, at present, very much alone.

Her fingers skidded across the surface of her locket. With a click, it opened and she stared at the faces of her mother and father. She tried to imagine what her father would say if he could see her now. She knew he would want her to be brave.

Her lip trembled and her young frame was shaken by another sob. She looked out at the moon, thinking of home and praying that her mother would be safe.

Somewhere across the sea, the same moonlight shone through the crack in the wall of a tiny dirt cell where Queen Sophia tenaciously held to a living lifeline; the existence of her daughter remaining free from the clutches of a very evil man and keeping hope alive with every heartbeat.

* * *

Carter awoke to the sound of weeping and an unintentional groan of annoyance left her before she could stop it. In response, she heard a quick intake of breath and then a soft creak as Rosie swiftly returned to bed.

Carter opened one eye and glanced surreptitiously at the princess who, according to the shaky ragged breaths Carter's ears picked up, appeared to be feigning sleep.

Carter lay quietly for a few minutes as an internal battle raged.

She felt torn. On the one hand, Carter might let Rosie know she saw through the ruse and demand the reason for the tears. On the other, the Lake Monroe student still smarted from the raw mortification of sitting in the lunchroom while Rosie stood on a cafeteria chair and nominated her to be "an excellent ruler", effectively assuring that Carter would be a laughingstock for weeks to come. The mocking laughter that pursued her as Carter fled the lunchroom would not soon be forgotten.

Nor did she feel very inclined to forgive its catalyst.

_That's what I get for letting my guard down._

Carter shifted underneath her covers and glared at Rosie. Finally, she sat up and walked over to Rosie's bed.

Rosie lay on her side, facing the window. Her cheek pressed against the pillow and her copper brown locks flowed across it. Somehow, all her top covers had bunched into the bottom corner of the bed, leaving her feet uncovered.

Awkwardly, the Louisiana girl cleared her throat, but Rosie did not stir nor open her eyes. Even her breathing had grown more natural and steady within the past minute. Had she already fallen asleep?

Carter's resolve weakened. She was tired and anything she said to Rosie right now probably would come across more harshly than she meant it. She had no desire to cause a renewal of Rosie's tears, especially not when she suspected the reasons behind them might be something she wasn't ready to deal with. Her father probably had a manual detailing exactly what to do when a princess cries, but offering comfort was not a skill Carter had ever bothered to cultivate.

A soft rattle reached her ears as the air conditioning kicked on. Air flowed through the vents and the room temperature rapidly began to fall. A silent debate raged within Carter for only a split second. It ended as she grabbed the corner of the bunched up top cover, straightening it out in order to pull it over the sleeping princess.

Carter retreated back to her own bed, glancing over her shoulder to assure that Rosie still slept, and then dove swiftly under her own covers, afraid her gentle act of kindness might still be discovered. Soon, she closed her eyes and fell asleep, thinking that she had escaped the danger.

Across the room, lying as still as possible, Rosie felt the lightweight cover that blocked the cool air from encroaching upon her and experienced silent astonishment. The last thing Rosie had wanted to do was disturb Carter's rest the second night in a row. Rosie stroked the sheet that covered her, confirming what had just happened hadn't been a figment caused by lack of sleep. Maybe befriending Carter Mason presented no easy endeavor, but Rosie felt convinced that if this situation had any hope of success, she needed to enlist Carter's help. First, with the raccoon and now, with this, Rosie had caught glimpses of a softer side Carter rarely showed—at least not to princesses.

Perhaps the uncooperative girl could be persuaded if Rosie tried what Carter had been asking for all along.

Being normal.

* * *

She made it too easy.

On Saturdays, Carter always anticipated a break from the torture at school and uninterrupted time to spend with her dad, but having a princess in her home altered the agenda. Princesses never learned how to be self-entertaining and ignoring them definitely didn't work, so Carter found herself forced to come up with a brand new course of action.

She immersed herself in chores. Carter frequently took shifts the shop in the early morning before school or on the weekends, helping out her dad and earning extra pocket money. There wouldn't be time to answer pesky questions or explain in detail things that normal teenagers already knew, because Carter would simply be too busy. This sweltering, hot morning Carter stood in the bait shop helping one of their long-time customers, Ernie, as she finished setting chairs up to the tables of the bait shop. Then, she spotted Rosie out of the corner of her eye.

Ernie nodded thanks to Carter and shuffled away.

Rosie, who was parading around in yet another custom made outfit of Carter's clothes, stepped into_ Joe's Bait Shack_ and greeted her brightly. "Good morning, Carter."

Carter's pony tail tickled the back of her neck as she remembered her own casual attire, a grey t-shirt and sweats, and wondered if Rosie even understood the concept of casual clothes. Instead of voicing her thoughts directly, she grunted and gave an imitation of her grandmother during one of her rare visits. "You wearing that?"

"Yes, I thought it lovely." Rosie blinked and looked at Carter, requesting her advice with a single raised eyebrow. "You do not approve?"

"Oh." Carter squinted as if thinking it over. "No. It's _lovely_."

"What are you doing?" Rosie inquired, looking on with curiosity as Carter purposefully moved over to the small refrigerator to grab a pot of coffee from its top. Carrying the half-full pot, Carter lifted the hinged part of the counter and entered the register area.

Rosie followed closely.

"Chores," Carter mumbled, emptying the stale coffee into a bucket on the counter behind the register. The aroma of coffee rose sharply into the air mingling with the scent of fresh dirt and the fishy smell which always lingered in the shack.

"Chores?" That echoing question was familiar to Carter now, but the offer that followed it was new. "I do not understand. Perhaps I could learn this—chores. You could teach me," Rosie said with a sunny smile.

_Too easy._ Carter turned to Rosie with a sly smile, chuckling at Rosie's awkward phrasing. Clearly, the princess had never done a chore in her life. "You know, that's the best idea you've had."

"What must I do?" Rosie asked eagerly.

Carter smirked. Unlike Carter's dad, Rosie wasn't adept at catching her sarcasm. "We'll start you off easy. Inventory," Carter explained, amusement warming her voice.

"Inventory?"

Carter smoothly outlined what needed to be done and she was calculating in her choice of words, making it sound easy. "Yes. Counting. Count what's in here." Carter handed Rosie a white plastic tub with a closed lid. "And put it in here." Carter passed Rosie a red metal bucket. "Have fun! Oh!" Carter added as an afterthought. "And when you're done, there's a whole other shelf too."

The clueless Rosie stared at the tub in her hands and, then looked up at the whole line of similar white containers Carter had pointed out on the shelf above. Her eyes widened, but she did not speak a single word in protest. She might be daunted, but remained quite determined.

Carter escaped from the bait shop and headed towards the lake, grinning broadly. Rosie might be able to shine at school, dazzling teachers and students alike, but the tomboy took glowing pride in her own area of expertise. Her classmates, like Chelsea and Brooke, called her Bait Girl for a reason.

She had seen what Rosie thought of lizards and raccoons. She wondered how the princess would react to counting night crawlers.

* * *

Smiling big, Carter happily walked over to where her father was working on an overturned rowboat.

Mason gave a quizzical look as she joined him. "Everything okay?"

"Oh, yeah." Carter tried to contain her grin. "Just peachy," she replied. She'd killed two birds with one stone; Rosie was currently too occupied with chores to ask any annoying questions which allowed Carter extra time to spend with her dad.

_This really couldn't get any better._

Carter picked up a paintbrush, dipped it in paint, and began to work beside him. The sun beat down on the land, warming her face and the breeze blew in off the lake. She and her father fell into a comfortable silence as they worked in tandem. She loved moments like this—moments of normalcy where she could pretend that her father owned a simple bait shop and the most urgent business for today involved giving this rowboat a touch-up paint job. In this world, political coups, life-endangering missions, and princesses in distress didn't exist.

A loud clattering came from the direction of the bait shack and Carter's illusion fell apart.

One princess definitely did exist and she had invaded Carter's world.

Major Mason fixed his daughter with a stern look. "Carter, what's Rosie doing in the bait shop?"

Carter kept her eyes fixed on her paintbrush and the surface of the hull. She struggled to keep a straight face. "Chores," Carter replied as a familiar shriek cut through the air.

"_Chores?" _Mason rushed into the bait shop and Carter followed.

Seeing how squeamish Rosie had been with the lizard, Carter hadn't actually expected Rosie to follow through with any task that included touching worms. The idea of a princess doing chores seemed funny in itself. The sight of Rosie, the princess of composure, sprawled on the floor amidst squirming live bait sent Carter into a fit of giggles. Apparently, Rosie had toppled back while trying to fetch a new tub from the shelf and caused several containers to fall, spilling their contents.

"Rosie!" Mason called, stepping over the floor to her side.

Worms had flown everywhere. "Are you okay?" Carter managed to gasp while her father helped Rosie back to her feet.

"I'm alright." Rosie straightened stiffly, flinging off a remaining worm that had landed squarely on her nose. No injuries were visible except the obvious blow to her pride. "I think I need to bathe." She exited the bait shop, trying to look as dignified as anyone possibly could who had been recently covered from head to toe in worms.

As Rosie walked away gracefully—with no accusations and no reproachful looks, Carter realized she had severely underestimated this princess.

"Chores?" Mason scoffed. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that Carter had put Rosie up to this somehow.

"She wanted to, Dad," Carter insisted. "She asked me!"

"Oh, I bet she did," Mason replied, and instructed his daughter to start cleaning up.

"Why me? She's the one who did it." Carter's objection had no effect and the mischievous grin which remained on her face did little to aid her argument.

Mason shook his head and reached for the broom. "Come on, pal. I'll help you. And, listen up, young lady. The next time you get the urge to play Tom Sawyer, I'll make you clean the entire shop. Inside and out."

"Okay," Carter replied, grabbing the broom handle and surveying the mess.

This would take some time.

As Carter attempted to get her father to crack a smile and admit the hilarity of the situation, she had no idea that Rosie was making a discovery indoors. The innocent girl had unwittingly stumbled upon a piece of Carter's past; a past that, up until now, had been buried, hidden away in the deepest recesses of the cabin, and covered with cobwebs.

A past that a well-meaning Rosie was currently dusting off about to put on display.

A past that Carter would rather forget.


	11. Memories

**Disclaimer:** Princess Protection Program and its characters belong to the Disney Channel and are borrowed here for the purposes of free entertainment.

_Review replies to those who can't get review replies:__** Maetro: **__Thanks, I'm trying to balance out the old scenes with the new. __**justpassingby**__: So glad you like the details._

_**A/N: **__As always, I love readers' reactions to the plot and characters. Thanks for letting me know you're reading it! *waves to lurkers who faved/alerted* It's pretty certain this story is going to be epic, so I appreciate any prodding.

* * *

_

_Chapter Eleven: Memories_

She simply couldn't do it.

Though mentally she knew the bath she had taken had scrubbed the dirt and germs from her body, the fresh memory of damp, wriggling bodies against her skin would not be easily banished from her mind. And that's where the problem lay. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't go back into the bait shop to offer to help clean up the wiggling mess. She had reached her disgust threshold and the mere thought of seeing a worm again today made her freshly-cleansed skin itch.

She marveled that Carter could do such a thing on a daily basis. Disappointment ran through Rosie because her efforts to help had failed so miserably. She did not wish to create extra work for the Masons. She stepped out to the porch to take in the fresh breeze and clear her head. The wind shifted not long after she did so and laughter floated to her ears from the direction of the bait shop. Reassured by their laughter, Rosie concentrated even harder on a way to repay the father and daughter for their kindness.

The idea started with the flowers. Rosie loved flowers and she surmised that Carter did too. There were a surprising amount of paper flowers and other floral artwork in the girls' bedroom. Flowers also decorated Carter's clothes. If Rosie could do nothing to help outdoors, perhaps she could do something to spruce up the interior. Many flowers grew obligingly close outside the cabin, even flowered vines crept up its walls, making gathering the multicolored varieties a nearly effortless pleasure. As she gathered the fragrant flowers, their scent filled her nostrils. Her original intent to pluck only a single bouquet of the lovely buds soon altered. What had started out as an impromptu gesture grew quickly into several floral arrangements boasting complementary colors and shapely leaves.

She carried the results of her labors onto the screened porch to hide them from direct sunlight, immediately deciding that the verdant pile of freshly-cut blossoms and leaves would require water to keep from wilting before the pair working in the bait shop returned.

Having secured her project a spot in the shade, Rosie trotted into the kitchen and began to search the cupboards underneath the sink. Nothing. Then, she explored the interior of the rest of the kitchen cupboards. She found several canisters, but these were filled with rice, flour, and other foodstuffs. In the last cupboard, she discovered one small blue vase, but it was not nearly large enough to display the amount of flowers she had acquired.

_Where else could another vase be stored?_

She walked over to the laundry room and pressed open the door. Before being startled by the raccoon, Rosie had noted a closet in here. The closet door squeaked in protest as she opened it. Rosie fumbled in the darkness of its interior for a moment before her fingers touched a plastic cord. With a gentle tug, she turned on the light.

There were several boxes of varying shapes and size covering the closet floor. Rosie knelt beside one, pulling it open, and coughing as she accidentally swallowed the dust that flew up in response to her effort. Pinching her nose to avoid breathing in more dust, she opened several other boxes and studied what she had found.

A smile slowly spread across her face.

Returning to the kitchen, Rosie opened the refrigerator. Thirsty, she 'helped herself' to the lemonade Major Mason had placed there when he'd offered it to her this morning. She had quickly learned that dinner presided as the only planned event at the Masons. Otherwise, standard meal times did not apply and if you didn't nibble on something in the kitchen when hungry this was considered extremely eccentric behavior.

Speaking of eccentric, Rosie wondered why the Masons were so fond of ordering pizza deliveries when they owned a working oven and stovetop in this well-maintained, if somewhat cluttered, kitchen. Rosie placed the jug of lemonade back in the refrigerator. Out of curiosity, Rosie opened the freezer to reveal what it contained and spotted half a bag of frozen chicken drumsticks. Not enough alone to feed three people. Unless…

_¡Claro que sí! _

The idea struck like a hammer and her heart pounded out a rhythm that made her want to sing.

She liberated the chicken from its bag, rinsed it, and tossed it into a frying pan on the stove, covering it with a lid. Oil and rice and flour were all rounded up and the neglected spice rack that rested on the counter finally realized its purpose.

Rosie hummed as she ran to fetch items from the closet.

She knew exactly what she had to do.

* * *

Mason studied his daughter thoughtfully. "C'mon pal, open up. Tell me what's really on your mind. Why are you being so hard on Rosie?"

"Did she tell you th—"

"She told me you'd been a great help to her."

"Oh."

Mason grunted. "She was being nice. Why can't you be nice?"

"She asks too many questions. She walks around like she's Super Princess. She thinks she can do anything." Carter began to tick off a list on her fingers.

"Who's to say she can't? Haven't I always told you? You can do anything." Mason grinned at himself, realizing he sounded a bit like a motivational speaker. Or a recruiter for the PPP.

"Yeah?" Carter wiped away a strand of hair that fell into her eyes. "Well, I don't think Rosie will be putting bait wrangler on her list of skills anytime soon." Carter smiled as this evoked a laugh and effectively deflected the conversation off Carter.

"I'm finished here." Mason set down a bucket on the shelf. "How 'bout you?"

"Yeah, me too."

"Time to clean up." Mason grabbed a small bottle of dish detergent from a shelf and squirted a small amount into Carter's hand before doing the same to his own palm.

They left a considerably cleaner bait shack and made their way over to the garden hose to complete the clean up. The hose gurgled before lukewarm water gushed over Carter's hands as she rubbed them together under the stream. Her father then turned the hose onto his own hands. He glanced at Carter inquiringly. "So what do you want for dinner?"

"Pizza," Carter replied without a moment's pause.

"We had pizza last night," Mason objected. "How 'bout burgers?" He flicked the nozzle of the hose up and suddenly it was aimed towards her. A mischievous glint appeared in his eye. "Gonna getcha, pal!"

"Noooo!" Carter squealed as a clear stream of water came towards her body, throwing up an arm to cover her head. Her father's aim was perfect. The water arched over her head, splattering on the ground right behind her. Several chilly drops dripped onto her face from the spray overhead and water splashed the back of her heels, but the threatened soaking hadn't happened.

Mason grinned. "Gotcha."

Drying their hands in the sun and the air, they continued their dinner debate as they walked towards the house. A tantalizing odor wrapped itself around them as they entered the screened porch.

It struck Carter like a punch in the stomach.

The ghostly scent of cinnamon and spice mixed with the faint scent of hot candle wax wafted into her nostrils. Her eyes were drawn to the tiny, flickering flames and her ears took in the soft music playing in the background.

Carter crossed her arms, trying to cover her initial shock. "I didn't know we still had all that stuff," she deadpanned.

"What's all this?" Mason asked, directing his attention towards the princess who stood acting like their hostess.

As Rosie explained the reason for the dinner, a pair of dark brown eyes took in everything. The porch had been transformed into a fancy dining area. Rosie had decorated two tables. One held several items of covered food. The other table had been arranged for a formal dinner complete with folded napkins. Carter felt like she was seeing a full-scale model of what Rosie had been trying to accomplish with her cafeteria lunch.

Carter half-listened to the words Rosie was speaking, snapping to attention as Rosie said, "…your shop of bugs."

"It's bait," Carter said, finding fault with the only immediate thing she could.

Rosie had changed into a lovely yellow dress accented by blue—regal colors—and she had found time to style her hair _and_ make dinner. Instead of a ribbon in her hair, a perfumed crown of flowers perched atop her head. Rosie regarded Carter coolly. "I'm aware."

All the joy Carter had derived from her small triumph in the bait shop flew up in smoke.

"Okay," Carter said, keeping her arms crossed. She stubbornly hid her amazement. The glow of the candlelight, the cheery pastel tablecloth, and the vases filled with flowers on both tables. It all looked so_ nice_.

Mason didn't have to be told twice when Rosie announced her intention to serve them tonight. He didn't even balk when Rosie handed him a homemade crown woven from leaves. Mason gallantly placed it on his head like it was an honor. He sat down at the table, mouth watering at the promise of the food, looking like some overgrown ad for Little Caesar's Pizza.

"So you cook?" Carter asked as Rosie prepared to serve them. "I thought you had servants for that."

"Actually," Rosie began, conversationally. "My mother grew up a peasant. So, she taught me many family recipes."

Silently, Mason urged Carter to wear the floral crown provided for her. Carter shook her head, mainly because (no matter how pretty a floral crown looked on Rosie) it would look ridiculous on her. Their silent argument continued until Rosie walked over to the table, oblivious to their entire exchange.

Reluctantly donning the crown, Carter frowned as Rosie approached carrying a serving dish. With a flourish, she raised the cover, revealing a dish she had garnished with a design in ketchup. "Arroz con pollo à la Fiore," she announced.

It sounded fancy. Most fancy things tasted gross. Carter wobbled the legs of her chair uncertainly, rested her elbows on the table, and suggested they order pizza.

"It's chicken and rice," Rosie explained, looking ruffled by Carter's suggestion.

Carter noted that even the serving dishes Rosie had chosen were nicer than anything she and her father ever used. A wave of sadness washed over her.

The kitchen hadn't looked like this since--And suddenly, Carter was broken out of her reflections as her father was voicing the same thought aloud and smiling in a way Carter hadn't seen for ages. "You know, I haven't had a real home-cooked meal since…"

"Forever," Carter finished. She scowled at him like he was a traitor and Mason looked back guiltily and never completed his statement.

"Right." A sad look came into Mason's eye, but quickly left when his nose caught the delicious smell as Rosie scooped food onto each of their plates. "Let's dig in!" he exclaimed.

Carter genuinely wished she had taken that cooking class when it was offered in school as she watched the delight continue to spread across her father's face.

As Mason filled his fork and began to eat, Rosie asked brightly, "Would you like a roll?"

Once again, Mason was all smiles.

Carter's eyes darted from Rosie to her dad and back again as they exchanged pleasantries. Jealously reeled its angry head, coiling up like a snake about to strike.

Mason couldn't seem to stop exclaiming over the food. "This is terrific! You're wonderful!"

Rosie beamed at the compliments, murmuring bashful thank-yous.

Carter's dad hadn't even noticed that she wasn't eating. All his focus went to Rosie. _Super Princess._ I might as well not be here, Carter thought bitterly.

And the resurrected memories crowding across the table were pushing a displaced daughter over the edge. Carter felt ready to snap. She roughly pulled off her flower crown, slamming it on the table and grabbing everyone's attention. "Wow!" The venomous words whipped out and hit their target with stinging force. "It must be nice to play peasant for a day."

Rosie looked wordlessly at Carter, all merriment at once banished from her expression. Poison tainted the air and the lighthearted atmosphere, so thriving moments ago, died.

Carter had fired many cannonballs at Rosie, but none had ever made a ripple. This one was different. Rosie shifted in her chair and Carter could tell the calm surface of the princess had finally been disturbed. "Would you excuse me?" Rosie whispered, directing her request at Mason.

When he nodded, she left the table without eating a bite.

Carter's appetite fled as well. She met her Dad's eyes and immediately read the stern look residing there.

_Make it better._

Quickly, Carter pushed her chair back and stood up. It was best not to stick around for anything else he might have to say next.

She went to her room without being asked.

* * *

Shuffling across the threshold of the bedroom, Carter searched for something to say. Rosie lay across the bed she used with her back towards the door. Carter climbed up onto her own bed and sat there, still searching for words.

Nothing came to mind.

"You do not know me, Carter."

As Rosie's voice cut across the room, Carter felt surprise. Why should Rosie care whether Carter knew her or not? It wasn't like Rosie was going to be staying here long. "What's the big deal?" Carter shrugged. "You'll be back with your servants and your personal chef and private tutors soon enough."

Rosie sat up, turning towards Carter with a glare.

Carter shifted uncomfortably on her bedspread.

The unmistakable threat of tears gathered in Rosie's voice as she began speaking again. "How much did your father tell you about me?" Rosie demanded.

"Other than the obvious?" Carter crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes. "It's need to know." It was one of her father's rules that drove Carter nuts. He didn't discuss his missions in detail with her. She didn't need to know. Discussing missions was as taboo as the other forbidden subject they didn't discuss--the one Mason had nearly blurted. A rule neither had ever come so close to breaking.

Until Rosie came.

Carter leaned forward slightly on her bed. Dark brown eyes burned black fire. "Do you even know what you just did in there? We were happy. What gave you the right to waltz into our lives and change everything?"

Speechlessness struck Rosie for several long seconds. Carter's words made it sound like she had committed a crime. How? By making dinner? Surely, that alone wouldn't leave Carter so upset.

Rosie couldn't hide her vexation. "What did _I _do?"

The flames in Carter's eyes went out. Doused by a different emotion.

Carter shook her head. Her voice dropped an octave. "_You brought her back_."


	12. Cracked

**Disclaimer:** Princess Protection Program and its characters were created by Annie De Young and belong to the Disney Channel. They are borrowed here for the purposes of free entertainment.

Shoutouts to **reens** and **Just Live Your Life**.

**A/N:** Another update, thanks to my lovely reviewers. This story is still flowing, enjoy the ride.:)

* * *

_Chapter 12: Cracked_

_You brought her back._

Carter's last words kept replaying in her mind like the snatches of a catchy song, the one irksome line that won't stop repeating because the rest of the words have yet to be memorized.

Rosie wanted to learn the rest of the story.

Her eyes remained glued to Carter. The look of pain in Carter's dark gaze caused her to shiver and all her exasperation evaporated. Rosie had seen that look before, the first day she had met the American girl. On that day, the princess had seen that pain shimmering in the dark brown depths before the haunted teen had fled, but had been at a loss to understand it.

Recognition flashed as she remembered exactly why Carter had looked that way. Blindly, never facing away from the other girl, Rosie walked back and grabbed an item from its place on the window seat. She brought it over to the bed. Rosie kept her eyes trained on Carter's face, afraid of missing the tiniest emotion or expression that might provide a clue to this ongoing mystery.

She forced her voice to remain steady. _"This_--Carter. Whose is it?"

Carter felt the bulkiness of the rough cover as it was placed in her hands. She stared down at it for a moment.

_The Bible_.

"It is very important to you," Rosie pried, gently. "Whose is it?"

Carter frowned and shook her head, refusing to meet Rosie's eyes.

Rosie watched Carter anxiously. "You do not have to tell me. I wish you would."

The pause preceding the words was so long that Rosie almost gave up on an answer, until Carter finally breathed out. "It was _hers._"

The princess nodded at the cryptic response. "Carter? Is there something you wish to talk about?"

"What?" Carter asked as her eyes widened and she picked up a pillow as if it would act as a barricade. Her shoulders tensed. "No!"

Rosie continued to stare. "But, perhaps you could explain? Who is she? For you to react like this, it must be someone very important like—" Comprehension dawned in Rosie's voice. Startled, Carter raised her chin and saw the surprise and sympathy shining in Rosie's intent brown gaze. "Could it be… _your mother." _Certain that her guess was correct; the conviction in Rosie's voice canceled out the question.

Carter could not deny it. Her shoulders relaxed as she lowered the pillow into her lap. Her arms felt limp. "It was _hers,_" Carter repeated in a raspy voice as she struggled against the lump forming in her throat and the stinging sensation pricking her eyes. "It was Mom's."

Rosie stayed silent, unable to gauge how to react to this revelation. Something told her, if she pushed too hard, Carter would withdraw once more. It was time to build on this common ground, shaky as it was, it would have to do. Her father had been fond of the saying; the most difficult journey starts with a single step.

Whatever the case, she would tread lightly. "I apologize, Carter. I did not mean to be indelicate."

Normally, Carter would wince at Rosie's formality, but for the moment she accepted the words with a dismissive shrug. "You didn't know."

It was happening already, but Rosie wasn't about to let Carter pull her head back into that tough-to-crack shell. Rosie moved slowly over to her own bed and sat down, silently gathering courage. _Tread carefully_. "I still do not." Rosie watched Carter hopefully, wondering how the girl would respond to this invitation to talk.

"It's better that way. Trust me. You don't want to know."

It was on the tip of Rosie's tongue to protest that she wanted to know everything, but she kept her mouth shut. Perhaps Carter didn't wish to share more at the moment, but Rosie could. It suddenly became clear that Carter thought of her of as a stranger that had invaded her territory. Up to this point, the princess had enjoyed her new anonymity, but everything comes at a price. Nobody here had an inkling of who she really was, except for the Masons. And it appeared Mason had not informed his daughter of much about her. How could she expect Carter to trust her if Carter didn't truly know her? Not the façade built to mask her from the enemy, but her true history.

If she wanted Carter to trust her, Rosie would have to lead the way.

Rosie took a deep breath and launched into the speech she had been practicing in her head, before Carter had entered the room—before certain pieces had clicked into place and Rosie had begun to form the outline of the puzzle. "I think you should know, my name is Rosalinda Marie Montoya Fiore, daughter of King Alberto Almeida Montoya Fiore and I am a royal princess."

"No kidding," Carter interjected in a monotone.

The princess frowned. Maybe reminding Carter of what she already knew (and seemed to detest) about her wasn't the best way to begin her speech. However, introducing herself by her full name felt right and it was too late to start over. Taking another breath, Rosie began to explain Costa Luna. Her home.

Carter interrupted again. "Never heard of it."

"It is not on most maps," Rosie replied in a serious tone. Didn't Carter understand what it took to be telling her all of this? Rosie rose and walked closer to Carter's bed. She needed her to understand. She needed to show her that this wasn't some silly game she was playing. "It is very small, very unimportant to large countries, but _very _important to me." Rosie paused next to the bed and looked at Carter dolefully. "Do you think this is a holiday for me? Do you think I wanted to be here? If so, then you are sadly mistaken. And whether you know it or not, it is as hard for me to be here as it is for you to have me here."

"I never said—"

"That is because you did not have to. I can hear it in your voice. You do not want me here."

Carter remained sitting on the end of her bed with her back propped against the pillow she'd been holding earlier. The earnest note in Rosie's tone kept back the smart remark that had been forming on her tongue. The serious light in Rosie's eyes kept Carter from objecting when Rosie moved to sit near her on the edge of the bed. And suddenly, Carter found the locket Rosie always wore thrust into her hands. Silently, she grasped it and looked at the miniature photo portraits housed inside of a smiling older gentleman and a beautiful lady with kind eyes that reminded her of Rosie.

Rosie's voice trembled. "When my father died, he left Costa Luna to me."

_Rosie's father was dead?_ Staring at his tiny portrait, Carter wished she had known. Gently holding onto the locket and chain, Carter realized that Rosie teetered on the brink of tears. "You don't have to tell me…"

Rosie had gotten this far, she wasn't about to stop now. "One month before my coronation our palace was attacked. Your father was very brave."

"He risked his life for you," Carter broke in, fearing an appearance of tears if she allowed Rosie to continue. Years of watching her father run off on a mission to save a princess with the same sob story had jaded her. Her father willingly ran off to risk his life for those who had no idea he was also risking the happiness of his only daughter. "I know," Carter spoke wearily and hugged her knees. "That's his job. He rescues poor, oppressed princesses."

Sad brown eyes bored into Carter's dark orbs. "Did he tell you we also had to leave my mother behind? The man who invaded Costa Luna now holds her as a hostage."

Carter shook her head and her apathy fled. Rosie's eyes sparkled with unshed tears and Carter felt moisture pooling in her own eyes in response. Carter gasped quietly, struggling to maintain her cool demeanor, and then whispered. "I didn't know."

Carter listened transfixed by the words Rosie had to say. Rosie's mother's life was in danger if Rosie failed to maintain her cover and Carter could no longer feel detached or pretend to be unaffected.

The faceless, nameless princesses her father rescued had never been real to her.

The princess sitting on her bed was very real.

The teenage girl starting to sob was very real.

The bait shop girl didn't know what to do about this overwhelming reality. The distraught look in Rosie's eyes touched something within Carter that she had almost forgotten existed. "Stop," Carter pleaded, wishing she had more comforting words to offer. "It's okay."

"Carter, whatever I did to make you dislike me, I am truly sorry. I will try to blend in. I will try to be from Iowa. It is the only way to save my mother's life."

Carter found it hard to believe Rosie was apologizing to her. Especially when it felt like things should be the other way around. Carter took a breath, dropped her knees in order to stretch on the bed and leaned forward, scooting closer to the princess. "Look, Rosie," she began, sounding contrite. "I'm an only child and it's just been Dad and me for a really long time. Having you here….It takes some getting used to." She sighed. "Let's just start over, okay?"

The sobs ceased abruptly. Hope lit Rosie's eyes. "I would like that. I am willing."

Carter quickly explained, raising her pointer finger. "And I if I see you doing something that's gonna get you in trouble….Well, I can't just let you act stupid, can I? If you're trying to stay undercover, there's certain things you _can't_ do. Things that could be a dead giveaway."

Rosie nodded eagerly. "Then, I grant you permission to tell me when you think I am acting too much like…"

"A princess." Carter grinned. As long as they were starting over, she guessed it wouldn't hurt to be completely honest. "I can live with that. But, you need to lighten up on the princess stuff. It's really annoying."

"Absolutely," Rosie promised. She could barely contain her excitement. Finally, Carter Mason felt willing to give her a chance. "Please, I want nothing more than to be a typical American girl," Rosie declared.

An idea lit Carter's dark brown eyes at her remark.

_That could be arranged._

"What do you have in mind?" Rosie asked, after Carter voiced the thought out loud.

"Wait here!" Carter sprang off the bed, causing it to bounce and Rosie quickly gripped its edge with both hands to avoid falling off.

Carter's shoes touched the floor and she had already started towards the door when she felt the weight of the chain in her hand. She paused sheepishly. "Here, uh…you probably want this back." Carter walked around the foot of the bed and gently dropped the precious locket back into Rosie's upturned palm.

"Thank you." Rosie pulled her hair back and lifted her necklace over her head, slipping the chain around her neck.

Carter watched as Rosie snapped the locket shut. "Never seen you take it off before."

A distant look appeared in Rosie's eyes. "This was the last thing my mother gave me before I left. The only piece of home I was able to keep with me. I like to keep it close." Rosie combed her fingers through her hair, smoothing the strands back into place, and then tossed it back over her shoulder. "But I wanted you to see."

"Oh." Carter nodded, stepping over to the doorway. "Okay." Carter drummed her fingers lightly against the door frame. "So, I'll be back."

Rosie offered her a small smile. "I'll be here."

* * *

When she skidded into the kitchen, Carter found her father washing his plate. "Hey, Dad?"

Mason looked up from the suds in the sink and paused. "Everything okay? With you and Rosie?"

"Yeah. Fine. Hey, remember how you said we could go shopping?"

The corners of his mouth twisted wryly. "I never said that." Mason set his plate down to dry in the dish rack.

"You never said we couldn't," Carter countered, tapping her foot impatiently. Sometimes the lack of having a vehicle to drive grated on her nerves, but she doubted her father would let the two of them go alone. At least not Rosie. Whenever her father was "monitoring things from this end" it meant he became an observer. A shadow. Close yet discreetly out of sight. "So can we?"

Mason turned and disappeared into the next room without saying a word.

Carter frowned, walked out to the porch, and sat down at the table in defeat. Absently, she picked up her fork, poking it into her cold food, and took an experimental bite.

_Hmm…not bad._

She tried a roll and her mouth watered.

_Delicious._

She had swallowed the whole roll and taken a third bite when footsteps clomped across the wooden floor.

Not looking up, Carter managed to gasp around mouthfuls. "Dis is rally gud."

"Tell her that. Had two helpings." Car keys jingled as Mason tossed the key chain in his hand. His eyes twinkled as Carter looked up in surprise. "So, where to, pal?"


	13. Princess Popularity

**Summary:** When something is broken, it's hard to put it back together again. Carter never let anyone get to close. Her life is disrupted by Rosie, the optimistic princess in hiding, who won't stop asking questions, forcing Carter to face her fears of the past. But can secrets from the past bring danger to the present?

_**A/N:** I'm so pleased with the response to the added mystery about Carter's mother. Yes, Rosie's going to investigate that in future chapters. Thank you very much for your response, because that helps writers jump over writing hurdles, and continue writing. I didn't want to split this chapter up into smaller parts for fear of breaking the flow, so please enjoy this eleven-page update.:)  


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_Chapter 13: Princess Popularity_

"Hey, pal. If you are planning to hit the lanes, you two better get going." Mason manned the shopping cart. "I've still got the groceries to get. I'll pick you up after. Anything you want me to get in the meantime?"

Carter threw the packages of underwear and extra socks into her father's cart. "Let me see." The teen turned to Rosie to ask for her input only to find an empty aisle under the florescent lights. _Not again_. Like a small and curious child, Rosie had taken to wandering off in every store since they had arrived at the strip mall.

_"Oh, the wonder of your commercial markets!" Rosie had gushed excitedly over the new sights and sounds. She rushed from one fascination to the next in such quick succession it was amazing she hadn't tripped over or collided with anyone yet._

_With a frown etched on her face, Carter trailed behind the ecstatic girl. "Don't tell me you don't have shopping in Costa Luna."_

_"Of course, we have shopping, Carter. However, I cannot visit the market place without accompaniment. And since everything I require is provided for me, it is less time-consuming to allow others to..."_

_"Okay, okay. I get it," Carter grumbled. "Sorry I brought it up."_

Carter jogged from row to row of shelves, scanning each aisle. Grateful Rosie still wore that eye-catching, sunny yellow dress, Carter hoped it would make her easier to spot. After several unsuccessful seconds ticked by, Carter resorted to calling out her name. "Rosie? Rosie?"

No answer. She hoped this trend of losing track of the endangered princess ended before it drove her crazy.

Carter paused to brush her long hair away from where it had fallen into her eyes. She'd released her dark locks from the ponytail when she had taken a quick shower and then changed into skinny blue jeans and a brightly-colored shirt for this outing. A small silver pendant hung from her neck.

Carter rocked on her shoe toes and called again. "Rosie?"

The melodic voice finally called out, "Over here, Carter." Rounding a corner, Carter found Rosie staring at a rack of overpriced jewelry, sunglasses, and wristwatches near the middle of the store. The princess sported a rather large pair of dark shades that completely concealed her eyes. Their glossy surface reflected Carter's grimace back at her.

It did nothing to deter the smile on Rosie's face.

"Necessities, Rosie," Carter chided with her hands on her hips. "How did you end up way over here so fast?"

"I walked."

"Yes, but I meant….You're not to suppose to—" Carter started to scold. She stopped as Rosie slid the pair of sunglasses off her nose, revealing the silent laughter dancing in her bright brown eyes. Carter shrugged and gave up on the lecture. "Is there anything left on your list?"

A nod answered her inquiry.

"Okay." Carter held out a hand. "Give it to me."

Rosie crinkled her nose. "Why?"

"Well, we're running low on time, so Dad's agreed to pick up the rest."

"It's not urgent." Rosie clutched the list more tightly. Her smile flitted away. "Perhaps we can return another day to finish."

"Don't be ridiculous—why?" Curiosity struck her mid-sentence. "What's on your list?" Before Rosie could react, Carter had snatched the list from her grasp. Carter huffed and started to walk back to her dad. Rosie could only follow helplessly.

Walking slowly, Carter took a moment to admire the dainty calligraphy before reading the items that were not yet checked off.

**_apples_**

**_strawberries_**

**_mangoes_**

**_bananas_**

Carter gaped at the amount of fruit listed. Next to the item _bananas_ the word "fresh" was written and underlined twice. So 'picky about fruit' could be added to the phrases that described Rosie. Filing that bit of information away, Carter kept reading.

**sandía**

"Uh, what's a sandía?"

"Oh," Rosie replied. "I do not know the word in English. It is red on the inside, but with many little black seeds."

"That's a watermelon."

"A _water_melon," Rosie repeated, committing the word to memory.

"Mm hmm. So are you planning on opening a juice bar or just creating the world's largest fruit salad?"

Catching onto Carter's sarcastic tone, Rosie raised an eyebrow and said nothing.

Carter smirked to herself and her eyes continued down the list.

She finally spotted the reason for Rosie's dismay.

**_sanitary_**_...Oh. That must be it._

Carter shrugged and spoke over her shoulder to Rosie. "My dad's been a single father of a girl for eight years. It's no big deal." As she came up beside her father, she handed him the list. "That's it, Dad."

Mason gave the list a cursory glance. His expression never changed as he tucked the list into his shirt pocket. "No problem. Have fun, girls."

Rosie nodded.

Carter tapped her shoulder. "Come on," Carter said, heading for the store exit. "Time to become a typical American teenager."

* * *

Carter had told Rosie nothing of her plans. When the doors parted the greasy scent of french fries, pretzel dough, and nacho cheese filled Rosie's nostrils. Pausing near the entrance as loud clattering noises issued from multiple sides, she became completely entranced by the scene. Teens milled about in groups, eating, talking, laughing and playing some fantastical game involving rolling heavy-duty colored balls and flashing lights.

"I love this place!" Rosie marveled as she stepped farther into the room. She grinned. "What is it?"

Carter gently ushered her towards a counter and answered, "It's a bowling alley." She followed Rosie's gaze to the balls rolling down the lanes towards the pins and explained, "_That's_ bowling."

Rosie soaked in the atmosphere and her grin widened. Rosie understood why Carter would choose this place to help her learn to become a normal teenager. Everyone here seemed to be their age...even the teenage boy in the dark purple shirt working behind the service counter--Wait, she knew that face from school. In fact, many faces passing by the counter had also graced the halls of Lake Monroe High.

"Carter! How you doing?" The happy smile flashed Carter's way and his quick attempt to smooth his dark, unruly hair didn't escape Rosie's sharp observation.

"Hi, Ed," Carter returned.

Ed kept on grinning before he offered Rosie a belated greeting and appeared to remember the reason he stood behind the counter. "What'll it be?"

Rosie politely returned his greeting, and eagerly put forward her newly acquired knowledge. "Bowling, please." She watched as Ed chattered, quickly getting shoes for Carter before she even asked. Carter appeared bored by this routine and didn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary about his behavior.

Rosie smiled.

It appeared Rosie needed shoes as well because Ed suddenly asked, "What size?"

The smile left her lips. "Excuse me?" Rosie asked.

"Your feet. What size?" Ed repeated, clarifying. Ed hadn't asked for Carter's size which meant he knew it by heart. _How very interesting._

Rosie pulled herself out of these musings to find Carter waiting impatiently for her to respond. "Oh," Rosie replied, apologetically. She whispered to Carter. "I do not know. All my shoes are made for me."

"There's a shock. Just get her some shoes, Ed," Carter commanded and walked off to a bench to change her own shoes.

"Okay," said Ed, glancing down at Rosie's feet as if trying to measure them with his eyes. "Ah, what size are the shoes you're wearing?"

"Oh, these are not mine. I borrowed them from Carter. The fit is a bit tight but..."

"Good to know," Ed said, holding up his right pointer finger to halt further rambling. He turned to the shoe cubbyholes and pulled out a pair of sixes. "This should do it," Ed trailed off as he turned back around with the shoes in his hands only to find Rosie no longer stood in front of the counter.

Looking at her new position, Ed grinned and decided to play along.

* * *

As Carter finished lacing up her shoes, she scanned the bowling alley.

_Ugh! The Two-headed Monster was here._ Chelsea and Brooke. The names rarely escaped Carter's lips separately because this pair stuck together, deciding who would be royally popular and who would be royally dismissed. Chelsea, by far the worst of the two, always came up with stinging put-downs, but Brooke wasn't much better as she always backed Chelsea up. The girls hadn't openly picked on Carter for the past few days, most likely because her embarrassing nomination had been deemed punishment enough and there were other fish to fry.

Carter started to relax and began to select a bowling ball. Today it looked like she would fly under the radar a bit longer. Chelsea and Brooke weren't even looking her way. In fact, their attention remained glued to something else as both their mouths hung open in disbelief.

Carter almost laughed at their comic expressions until her eyes found what unfortunate soul had caught their full attention.

_Rosie._

Rosie sat on top of the counter holding out her foot and Ed was kneeling at her feet like some sort of gallant knight, lacing up her bowling shoes.

Carter rushed over as Ed was saying, "Thank you. It's been a pleasure serving you, milady." He gave an exaggerated bow.

"All right, thank you, Romeo." Carter lightly pushed Ed aside, forestalling more of the drama. _Goofball._ She grabbed Rosie's hand, tugging her down from the counter, hopefully before anyone else took in the scene. "You're not blending in," she hissed at Rosie before her voice returned to its normal volume. "Pick a ball."

Carter concentrated for a moment on the task she'd been interrupted from before--securing a ball for herself--and when she looked up again she was startled to see that Rosie had indeed picked up a ball and Donny in the process.

Donny carried the bright pink ball and walked behind Rosie as if on an invisible leash.

_First, Ed and now, Donny too? __This was so not happening! _How come everyone found Rosie so charming? Carter couldn't yell at Rosie to stop acting like a princess in this crowd, so she tried to stop the ludicrous behavior in a more subtle way._ "_Donny, uh, you don't have to carry that for her," Carter excused. "She can do it herself." Carter stared pointedly at her companion. "Like a normal person. So, I'll just take this." Carter pulled the ball from Donny's hands.

"Whatever you say," Donny began, but it was clear he'd only been half listening to Carter and now he drew a blank. He clearly had forgotten her name.

"Carter," Carter provided for him.

Rosie detected a note of disappointment in the other girl's voice.

"Right." Donny chuckled and sidled away.

Rosie's opinion of Donny plummeted. Rosie looked over at Donny and her lips fell into a small frown. _How could Carter show so much interest in a boy that couldn't be bothered to remember her name? _Sitting with his friends, Donny caught Rosie looking and nodded her way.

"Stop that!" Carter narrowed her eyes, spotting Donny's nod. "You'll have boys tripping all over you!"

"Speaking of which: Is Donny your boyfriend?" Rosie asked innocently, turning towards Carter.

"What? No!" Carter almost choked, willing Rosie to lower her voice. Pink tinted her cheeks. "No, he's just a friend."

"But you want him to be. He is very special to you. I see the way you look at him," Rosie continued blatantly. "It's the same way Ed looks at you."

Carter blew out a puff of air and scoffed, clearing not wanting to discuss it. "Just bowl. You first."

Respectfully, Rosie dropped the subject. Now, was not the time for questions Carter wasn't willing to answer.

Besides, maybe Carter would be more willing to open up later. Behind closed doors.

Rosie looked down the lane, ready to play. "So?" She arched an eyebrow. "How do I win?"

* * *

_Impossible!_

Carter's jaw nearly dropped to the floor as she watched Rosie get a strike. And then, it happened again. And again.

Carter found herself dreading her turn as more and more observers flocked to their lane. Watching their game. Watching Rosie win.

Carter didn't want to play anymore. She retired from the game, got up, and returned her bowling shoes to the counter with a sigh.

"You really don't like your cousin, do you?" Ed asked.

"No, it's just...she's can be sometimes...." Carter trailed off. _She's a princess._ She couldn't tell Ed the truth and without it, there was no clear way to explain her predicament.

Another collective cheer rose through the air as Rosie got yet another strike. Most of the other bowling lanes were empty. Rosie had gained fans as she bowled strike after strike.

Ed drummed his fingers on the counter. "Rosie seems to be having fun."

"Yeah." Carter shrugged. "At least one of us is."

* * *

On the ride home from the bowling alley, Rosie ended up riding shotgun while Carter sat in the back with the groceries.

"You are certain you do not want the front, Carter?" Rosie had raised a skeptical eyebrow when Carter had opted for the backseat.

"No, that's okay. Kinda tired."

Rosie had enjoyed her first taste of popularity and still hadn't digested it all. She recounted the wonders of nacho cheese, and the niceties of the crowd who had applauded when she had knocked down all the little targets.

"Pins," Carter corrected.

Joe Mason listened to Rosie's tale indulgently, catching Carter's eyes in the rear view mirror from time to time. He beamed her a smile of approval.

By the time they reached home, the sun set low in the sky. Carter and Mason walked into the house and set down the bags of groceries in the kitchen.

"Allow me to assist you," Rosie offered, fingers diving into the assorted bags before Mason could even reply.

"Go right ahead," Mason replied with a glance at Carter. Carter crossed her arms and leaned against the counter, simply watching this new scene unfold. The grocery bags rested on the kitchen island. Mason gave the bags a once over. "Hmm, think I left one in the car," he said and left out the door.

Several items were already on the counter when Rosie suddenly said, "Where does this go?"

Carter moved forward, taking the bread bag from her hands with a displeased grunt, and nearly squashing it in the process.

Rosie knew that sound. She shot an assessing look at the other occupant of the room. "What's wrong?"

Carter threw the bread onto the counter by the wall behind her. "Typical American teens don't _ask_ to do chores."

"Perhaps not." The sweet odor of strawberries wafted over as the princess opened another grocery bag and lifted out the container. "Your father went through the trouble of driving us to the store, and getting these items for us, it is only fitting that we offer to help."

Dark brown eyes stared across the kitchen at Rosie for a long moment. Carter blinked, dropping her gaze to the floor, and muttered. "Right."

_I hate it when she's right._

Arms fell to her sides and Carter took a step. She pulled open the refrigerator door with one hand, gesturing for the strawberries. Rosie passed the carton of fruit and Carter put it away. They continued like this, working mostly in silence. Rosie emptied the bags and Carter put the groceries in their proper places. It didn't take long for them to establish a rhythm and by the time Major Mason returned, the majority of the food items had already been stored away.

He grinned at them like he had discovered an Olympic team striking gold. "Great work, girls," he commended. "You make a good team."

And then it was bedtime.

* * *

All Carter wanted to do was sleep.

The overhead light had been switched off and a bedside lamp currently cast a yellow glow over the bedroom. Rosie hadn't taken the hint. She still wanted to talk.

Carter lay in her bed, looking up at the ceiling. She felt her mattress give as Rosie plopped down, uninvited, sitting on the end of the bed. Rosie had come to accept the fact that Carter's wardrobe hosted very little pink. The princess wore a gray T-shirt with the number "12" emblazoned on it and sweat pants. She looked quite comfortable, but her cheeks were rosy and her eyes sparkled with the excitement of her recent experiences. She looked as far removed from sleep as the sun is to the moon.

"...and so now, I have a nickname. Chelsea and Brooke seemed very nice."

"I'm sure they seemed that way," Carter's mumbled reply came from her pillow.

"Did I do better today? At blending in?" She secretly thought so, but she really wanted Carter's opinion.

Carter thought for a moment. "Don't curtsy."

"What do you mean?"

"When you got your first strike today, you curtsied. It was odd."

"Oh." Rosie nodded. "I shall try to remember. But other than that error?"

"Yeah, I guess," Carter said, quickly.

Rosie fidgeted unable to keep still. Her fingers played with the comforter on the bed. Her curiosity about what had happened at the bowling alley had not been sufficiently quenched. If she wanted to understand Carter, surely it would help to understand those who currently inhabited her life. "Carter?"

"What?" Carter responded, curtly.

Rosie didn't hesitate. "Why do you care so much for this boy, Donny?"

Carter avoided meeting Rosie's curious eyes. "Who says I care for him?"

Rosie's silence spoke more powerfully than any words she could have said. Carter looked up at Rosie and huffed. She sat up in her bed and the words spilled out almost of their own accord. "Fine! I've been totally in love with him since the third grade when he kissed me under the basketball hoop. Is that what you want to hear?"

She waited, but no teasing remarks or derisive laughter came to Carter's ears.

Instead, the princess looked strangely solemn. "He is quite beautiful," Rosie admitted quietly. "Much like a prince. I wonder if he is beautiful on the inside as well."

It wasn't the comment Carter had expected to hear, least of all to have the princess wax philosophical. And now the thought had been planted in her mind, Carter found it buzzing like a fly that she couldn't get rid of. She had been so busy admiring Donny's looks and trying to get the boy to notice her. She hadn't really spent much time pondering what he was really like.

Carter's head ached. Between cleaning the bait shop and bowling, the busy day had started to catch up with her.

"Shall we bowl again tomorrow?" Rosie questioned with a hopeful lilt in her voice.

_Would the questions never cease? How could someone so bright and cheery in the mornings still be so energized and talkative at night? Wasn't it supposed be one or the other? _Carter shook her head, lowering it back to the pillow._ "_I can't. I'm working at the bait shack."

In Costa Luna, no students commenced a profession until school had been completed for fear it would detract from their studies. In the United States, however, this did not appear to be the case. She hoped Carter would help dispel her ignorance. "I have never worked before. Is this normal?"

"Yeah. Lots of kids have jobs." Carter didn't bother to hide the annoyance in her voice. She just wanted to sleep. She wasn't in the mood to answer a hundred and one questions tonight. Especially not for someone who could become a bowling phenomenon, monopolize Donny's attention, and garner high praise from her dad all in the same night. Chelsea and Brooke practically wanted to adopt her. Carter had her own suspicions about what those two intended, but she didn't voice them to Rosie. Because, right now, Carter simply didn't care.

"Then, I will help you," Rosie offered eagerly.

It was too much.

"You can't!" Carter snapped, sitting up again.

Rosie flinched.

Carter saw the flinch, but chose to ignore it. She hadn't asked for Rosie to be dumped into her life.

She shared her room, the bathroom, and all her classes at school. She saw Rosie when she woke up in the morning and before she went to sleep at night. At the moment, she longed to shut her eyes, shut out Princess Chatterbox, and retire to the peace of temporary oblivion.

"Why not?" The words were stilted as if Rosie feared saying too much would trigger a return of the way things were before their agreement. Carter often seemed like a live wire. Her moods shifted like they were on a switch and one never knew what might set off an explosion.

Carter's dwindling reserve of patience flew out the window. Her arm flew out and she pressed a hand against Rosie's shoulder, pushing her off the bed and away from her personal space. Rosie stood by the bed, looking down at Carter, and wondering how her offer of assistance had turned so sour.

"Because it's mine. You can't have everything that's mine!" Carter rolled over under her covers, refusing to look at Rosie. "If you want a job so bad just get one yourself," she grumbled.

Waves of disappointment dimmed brown eyes as Rosie considered Carter's words. "All right. Good night, Carter."

There were footsteps and a click as the lamp on Carter's nightstand flicked off engulfing half the room in darkness. The only remaining glow proceeded from the lamp by Rosie's bed. Seconds later, Carter heard the crunch of Rosie's mattress and that bedside lamp also switched off, coating the walls in dark figurines painted by the light of the moon.

A deafening silence filled the air as silent branch-like shadows danced on the walls in the silvery moonlight.


	14. Anyone Could Be the Enemy

**A/N:**_ It's always nerve-wracking embarking into a new fandom, but I've never had a story so warmly received before. Thank you very much everyone for your interest! I love writing these characters and love hearing your take on them. Enjoy!

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_Chapter 14: Anyone Could Be the Enemy  
_

For a guy who lived near a lake, Ed had never shown a strong interest in fishing. Carter found it awkward to have him filming her at the moment. The nose of the camera almost hit her nose as she pulled a small cage-like trap out of the water. "Ed!" she complained, rolling her eyes.

Ed had never grown out of his love for capturing candid shots, even if it meant sneaking up on his film subjects. He giggled and kept the camera pointing at her. "Here she is, folks," Ed narrated. "A future homecoming princess of Lake Monroe, Louisiana. Who is this natural beauty, you ask?"

Carter stood up, keeping a hold on the trap. She walked along the dock. Ed and his camera followed. Carter gritted her teeth, feeling uncomfortable as the camera lens zoomed in for a close up. _How many people were going to see this? _"Would you go away?" she pleaded with Ed. "I'm working."

"This is Carter Mason," Ed continued, walking backwards to keep Carter in the shot and acting as if he hadn't heard a word she'd uttered. "Secret identity: Bait Girl. So confident of her innate royalty, she is completely unafraid to handle whatever disgusting creature…"

Carter knew exactly how disgusted Ed was by the creatures she carried. She couldn't resist. Mischief lit up her eyes. She smiled and thrust the dripping cage towards him.

Ed immediately jumped back, moving his lens away from the wet, wriggling creatures. Ed protectively examined his precious camera lens and wiped away invisible water droplets. "Hey! Isn't that…Not on my camera, please!" he blustered.

Carter laughed. She squinted in the bright sunlight as she casually held the crawfish-filled trap with one hand. "Then, turn it off!"

"No," Ed objected with a whine. "Today's my last day to get the 'before' footage. The princess vote is tomorrow."

Carter sighed. That fact was not something she had to be reminded of. Why Ed cared about it so much though was a mystery to her. He seemed entirely too invested in all this. "Well, then go shoot Chelsea or Brooke," she suggested.

"Nah," Ed countered as they stepped off the dock onto solid ground. "I've got tons of them already. They pay me to film them." Ed finally lowered his camera, stepping out of her way to allow her to work.

_They paid him? _Things were starting to make more sense now. Carter felt somewhat relieved. "Ah! Is that why you're doing this? 'Cause of the money?"

"Absolutely. I'm the only senior guy in Lake Monroe who doesn't have a car."

Carter smiled at the crawfish in the trap as she listened to Ed. "Figures." She opened the trap, carefully shaking the little creatures into a large bucket of water.

Ed stood across the bucket from her and watched, avoiding the splashing water as the crawfish dropped into their new home. "You really hate this whole princess thing, don't you?"

Carter focused on her work, making certain there were no escapees. "I don't hate it exactly," she explained. "I just think it's shallow." Ed's silence encouraged her to continue. "Girls like Chelsea and Brooke, all they think about is shoes, like wearing the right clothes makes them superior. I just want to do something more important with my life. Like my dad."

Ed gave her a funny look. "Yeah. Your dad does sell some sick bait."

"Right." Carter forced a laugh. The number one drawback of having a dad who is a secret agent was the secret. Now, Ed probably thought Carter's lifelong dream involved owning a line of bait shops.

Thankfully, Ed didn't question her. "Speaking of princesses, I think that was one cool stunt your cousin pulled."

"Stunt?" asked Carter, distractedly.

"Yeah. The whole acting like a princess bit. Like a subtle way of announcing she could be a homecoming princess. I wish I had my camera yesterday, but it's not really allowed when I'm working."

"Oh, that wasn't exactly a stunt." Carter thought better of her words after they had left her mouth. _Too late now._

Happily, Ed brushed away her words. "You're kidding, right? Anyway, she's really good. She told me Edwin was a wonderful name. It sounded like she really meant it, instead of just a princess act."

"If she said it, Ed, then I'm sure she meant it."

Ed smiled enjoying this chat with Carter. In his mind, Carter always stood out, but today was different because there wasn't anyone else smiling in the background of his camera shot. He'd started to expect that extra cheery presence. Ed cradled his camera between his palms and scanned the area. "Where's Rosie?"

Carter didn't have a clue. When she had arisen this morning, there had been a well-made bed on Rosie's side of the room. A red shirt and a pair of blue jeans had been missing from Carter's wardrobe. An outfit combination surprisingly lackluster compared to the other ensembles Rosie like to create, but Carter hoped Rosie had learned that not every outfit had to look like it came from a fashion catalog.

After Carter's ill-tempered outburst last night, she guessed Rosie had chosen to avoid her. This choice didn't surprise her. It did seem shocking, however, that Rosie had managed to hold to this resolve and remain away. There had been no cheery greetings, no incessant questions, no astute observations, and no Costa Luna anecdotes.

No Rosie.

Mason had already warned Carter that he wouldn't be around for a couple of hours this morning because of PPP-related business.

Thus Carter worked alone, uninterrupted, until Ed came along.

At Ed's question about Rosie's whereabouts, a frown formed on her face. "How should I know?"

Before Ed could respond, his pocket rang. He pulled out his cell phone and flipped it open. "I think I just found her."

The air felt warm and balmy, but a foreboding chill radiated through her at the tone of Ed's words. Carter squinted at the images on the small screen of his mobile phone as he held it up for her to see. She read the brief text followed by a picture message. Moments ago, Carter had been picturing Rosie curled up in a secure corner of the house with her nose stuck in a book. As her eyes took in the photo, Carter saw that nothing could be further from the truth.

Shaking with indignation, Carter reached out a hand and snapped the phone shut.

The snide underhandedness mixed with public humiliation left no doubt of who was responsible. This had Chelsea's signature written all over it.

Carter clenched her fists. It surprised her how upset she felt.

Rosie was irritating and annoying and embarrassing. She asked too many questions and entirely missed the concept of remaining out of the spotlight. In short, Rosie bothered Carter to no end.

Then, why did Carter feel so concerned?

Carter closed her eyes concentrating. She knew, better than most, what receiving the full brunt of Chelsea's cruelty felt like. And no one, absolutely no one deserved that kind of treatment.

_Especially not Rosie_.

Carter opened her eyes. "Ed? Do you think you could borrow your dad's truck?"

Ed grinned back at her. "Sure."

Carter abandoned the traps, pulling on Ed's arm while ignoring his cries of pain. "Hurry up!" she urged and kept tugging him along.

Bait Girl had a mission to accomplish.

* * *

So this was a job.

Chelsea had eagerly offered it to her when she'd discovered Rosie was seeking employment.

"Of course, Ro," her voice had chirped over the phone. "So glad you called me. I'm always happy to help. What do you know how to do? Have you any experience in food service?"

"I can cook," Rosie had started to say.

"Perfect!" Chelsea squealed. "You're hired. Put on a red shirt and I'll pick you up in my car. You can get started right away."

The offer seemed promising at the time. Now, Rosie wasn't quite so sure.

Rosie had become the newest employee of Udderly Yogurt and things had quickly gone downhill from there. She was wearing a cow logo sticker on the red shirt she'd borrowed from Carter. A black and white cow-patterned cap with horns and tiny ringing bells sat on her head, tinkling whenever she moved her head.

Upon arriving at the shop, Chelsea had cheerfully explained that her father owned this shop and sixteen others. He was the king of frozen yogurt. Chelsea gave Rosie the grand three-minute tour of the shop ending with the words, _"Just put a little swirly on top and you're good to go, 'kay?"_

It had sounded so simple at the time that Rosie hadn't protested when Chelsea left her to work alone in the shop. Or, to put it more accurately, Chelsea hadn't noted her uncertainty and had breezed out the door before Rosie could voice any protest.

Rosie pursed her lips. Brown eyes stared hard at the metallic surface of one of the frozen yogurt machines, hoping to drag out its secrets.

The one-sentence tutorial Chelsea had given her didn't seem to be helping much at the moment. The machine with its buttons and levers groaned and hummed as she tried to figure out which flavor would issue from which spout. Chelsea had never taken the time to explain what exactly a swirly was, but Rosie had managed to surmise from the photos on the back wall what a swirled yogurt cone should look like.

Only she couldn't quite get it. She pulled a lever with one hand and held the cone underneath with the other. Somehow, the swirly got flattened or it fell lopsided. Her first three attempts toppled out of the cone completely. The fourth began to drip, leaking from a crack in the bottom of the cone. She discarded it quickly, but not before several gobs of soft-serve yogurt had fallen onto her pants. She wiped at the cold concoction with her fingers, but it only melted and dripped on her shoes.

Customers stood in lines at the counter. Every time Rosie looked towards the front, the lines seemed to have doubled. There were even people standing outside the door. She had never imagined these frozen treats were so popular in the United States. She wondered momentarily why so many students from Lake Monroe were in attendance. Chelsea had mentioned that friends from school would drop by to be supportive, but Rosie doubted that many students knew her. She didn't ponder the thought for long and instead reached for another pastel-colored cone. Her hands grew cold and sticky and her focus became fixed on filling the yogurt cones. Her failed attempts filled the trash receptacle, but Rosie didn't quit.

The idea never even crossed her mind.

Fully committed to the task, Rosie finally saw a ray of hope. At last, she pulled a cone out from under the yogurt spout and her lips turned up in a triumphant smile. Her chilled fingers and the yogurt spattered across her cheek didn't matter.

_Bien hecho,_ she silently congratulated herself.

The swirly was perfect.

Rosie never got to repeat her success. A strangely loud whirring followed by an eerie, ominous spitting sound came from behind her. She felt a rumble.

Rosie turned around and her mouth dropped open in horror. She gasped as a steady stream of watery yogurt came gushing from the machine and, with nothing to catch it, the mess spilled over onto the floor.

Simultaneously, the same occurred with the matching metal contraption beside her.

The machines had gone loco.

The results of her hard labor dropped to a serving tray as Rosie grabbed the nearest container she could find, a red plastic cup, and placed it beneath the new yogurt waterfall.

It wasn't enough.

She grabbed up a small dish in each hand and held it under the flow. With her attention divided between the two machines, Rosie literally lost ground in this battle. Yogurt spread across the floor making it slick. She slipped to her knees, coating them in cold yogurt.

Immediately, Rosie wobbled back to her feet. Leaving several dishes to capture what little they could, she rushed over to the second machine. She shook the levers, but this did nothing to shut down the flowing mess. Wondering if some foreign object had somehow lodged against them, Rosie stuck her head under the spouts controlled by the levers, searching for the mysterious cause of the malfunction. Sticky goo splashed against her face and Rosie sputtered, blinking her eyes as they watered and obscured her vision.

Her desperation grew as the sound of laughter reached her ears, reminding her there were others watching her predicament.

And doing nothing to help.

Turning towards the laughing crowd, Rosie opened her eyes and immediately her gaze collided with a familiar pair of dark brown orbs. The welcome sight pushed forward through the crowd, pausing to stare back wordlessly at Rosie.

Rosie tried to step back, but the slimy goo stole her traction.

The world slipped out from under her. She didn't register the fall until she found herself staring up at the ceiling, lying in a cold puddle of yogurt as it soaked through her clothes, seeped into her shoes, and coated her long, flowing hair.

Laughter roared in her ears, but Rosie's mind held onto a single, uplifting thought.

Carter wasn't laughing.

Her friend had come to help.


	15. Breakthrough

_A/N: Thanks to all who asked for an update...Writing this chapter felt like going uphill, but I think it turned out well. What do you think? Please enjoy!  
_

* * *

_Chapter 15: Breakthrough  
_

It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what had happened.

Carter never saw Brooke and Chelsea sitting outside in Chelsea's car, blissfully admiring their pedicures and smirking at their plot. An increasing crowd gathered inside _Udderly Yogurt_ and others gawked through the window, mesmerized by the train wreck happening inside.

Even Donny was in attendance. Listening to the grumblings that could be heard through the door, he walked languidly over to Chelsea's car and entered a plea for Rosie. "Come on, Chels. She's dying in there. Help her out."

Carter didn't see Chelsea respond to Donny's request and wave Bull over to her side of the car to request a favor. She didn't hear the conspiratorial whisper or the look of concentration that appeared on Bull's brow as he thought over Chelsea's words.

She didn't have to.

Upon arrival, Carter peered through the glass window and then stormed through the door of the yogurt shop. Yogurt streamed out of the dispensers and Rosie seemed to be rushing madly to and fro, trying to stop it. Carter marched through the crowd up to the service counter and Ed followed her.

Her eyes caught Rosie's just as the princess slipped and lost her footing.

The familiar shriek spurred Carter to action.

She ran behind the counter. As she entered the back of the shop, Carter glanced sideways. She had spotted motion and saw Bull's retreating back. The boy slunk along behind some metal shelves before he went to rejoin his friends at the front of the shop. He came from the direction of the red buttons. The buttons Carter knew activated the self-cleaning tanks connected to the froyo machines' dispensers.

That was all Carter needed to see.

Bull had never been an employee of _Udderly Yogurt_. The chances he had decided to hit the buttons located in the 'employee only area' of the shop without prodding were non-existent. But Chelsea Barnes knew the details of this shop like that the back of her manicured hand and Carter immediately pegged her as the culprit behind Bull's actions.

Not much had changed since third-grade. Bull was still a tool driven by the whims of others and Carter silently took stock his of hasty exit, mentally berating him.

_Coward._

But Carter didn't pause long. Rosie slowly sat up on the floor. "What are you doing?" The question left Carter's lips as if by default. She stepped carefully over the slick floor next to Rosie. The yogurt creeping like lava across the floor presented a hazard. Carter leaned forward and hit an emergency switch on the wall, cutting off the power to all the machines.

The machinery hissed to a halt.

Turning back to help Rosie, she was beaten to it by Ed.

"Are you okay? Come here, Rosie," Ed sympathized, offering support as Rosie returned to her feet.

Rosie glanced at Ed without a word. Her eyes sought Carter's and held them. "You said to get a job," Rosie murmured.

"Not this one! This job's for losers. Trust me, I've had this job. The bait shop is a step up."

"Hey, check it out," Ed said to Carter and Rosie.

The three looked towards the front of the shop.

The laughter hadn't died. Students were still snapping photos with their cell phones and cameras. By tomorrow, the student body would be well-informed about this fiasco.

Even Rosie could detect the ill will of these onlookers. Could the crowd really be this fickle? Could the same people who had applauded her now have turned traitor on her? She looked to Carter. "What is happening?"

Rosie's voice had barely been a whisper, but Carter replied as if it had been a shout. Carter nodded, indicating the crowd. "Chelsea set you up. She invited all those people to watch you make a fool of yourself."

_A setup? _Rosie strove to keep her expression stoic as the thought sank in. The befriending, the nickname, and the kindly job offer. It had all been lies and pretending. Chelsea and Brooke had never wanted to be her friends.

Only to do her harm.

For a brief moment, her mind went back to many years ago. To an adorable puppy, a beckoning boy, and to the sinister shapes waiting in the woods. Rosie's eyes closed. She swallowed hard and pushed away the dark memories hovering overhead and threatening to rain down upon her.

Shoes squeaked on the floor as Carter drew closer. "You okay?"

Rosie opened her eyes.

She had seen that burning fire in Carter's eyes before, but for once it wasn't aimed in her direction. A piece of the puzzle clicked into place and Rosie finally understood.

All those times when Carter had sounded annoyed or upset were because of worry. Whenever Carter had criticized or scolded, she had worried that Rosie wasn't going to fit in. Carter knew that something like this might happen. She feared being harassed by their peers...because Carter knew exactly what it felt like to be an outsider.

And from the way Carter was fuming, Rosie could tell that her friend took this trick Chelsea had played personally. "I could have warned you about her," Carter continued. "I should have warned you about her. I don't know why I—" Carter's eyes searched the crowd as she absently plucked some napkins from the napkin dispenser on the nearby counter and held the flimsy paper squares out to Rosie.

Rosie accepted the napkins graciously. She felt touched by the recent actions on her behalf, recognizing the possibility of repercussions.

Carter had taken her side. In public. Regardless of what other people might think.

Rosie wiped her fingers clean, and then handed the napkin to Ed.

"Carter, it's okay," Rosie replied, softly. She placed a calming hand on Carter's shoulder. "I am not a fool. And Chelsea cannot make me into something I am not."

Carter looked dumbfounded. "Rosie, we have to do something," she insisted. The Louisiana's girl's hands were at her sides, but her fingers twitched as if preparing to curl into fists.

Rosie shook her head. Even with yogurt dripping down her forehead, her expression looked noble. "I will turn the other cheek. Because that is what princesses do." The cow cap had remained on the floor after her fall. Carter moved out of Rosie's way as the princess bent down and retrieved it.

She marched past Carter and Ed, headed out of the back and into the waiting crowd.

Carter tapped her foot and started to follow Rosie when she saw something lying abandoned on the counter. _This could prove to be useful._

_

* * *

_

Rosie walked out from behind the shelter of the counter into the open area of the yogurt shop. Head held high, the princess swept her gaze over the crowd until she found Chelsea.

Sometime during the course of things, Chelsea and Brooke had entered the shop and positioned themselves at a wall booth for a better view of the spectacle. Donny sat with them.

Rosie walked straight over to Chelsea. She didn't hesitate, nor did she hurry. Ed and Carter flanked her. Ed held up his camera, switching it on to record the coming confrontation. Carter's eyes darted over the crowd, just daring them to try something. But she needn't have worried, because the snickering crowd wasn't laughing anymore. Something in Rosie's demeanor had changed their minds.

Chelsea stood next to her booth with a smug grin. And now, as Rosie stopped in front of Chelsea, silence reigned supreme.

Everybody was listening. Maybe they were even holding their breaths as they waited to see what would happen next.

Rosie didn't shout. She didn't cry. Her tone remained level even as she handed the cow cap over to Chelsea. It was still dripping yogurt off the brim. Chelsea's smug smile dried up as Rosie looked her straight in the eyes. "Your father, the king of yogurt, would be very disappointed in you."

Struck speechless, Chelsea only stared back at Rosie. It was clear that this was not the reaction the girl had been expecting and she didn't have any defenses built up against it.

The crowd buzzed in awe. Many had been under the scope of Chelsea's withering ridicule, but not many had the guts to stand up to Chelsea in public. The winds of the fickle crowd turned in Rosie's favor and the threat of laughter grounded to a halt.

Rosie moved forward again, keeping her eyes straight ahead. She continued her dignified stroll, making her way through the remainder of the crowd and out of the shop.

Carter's eyes narrowed at the blond, spiky-haired boy in the booth adjacent to Chelsea's. Pulling her hand from behind her back, she smashed a strawberry-yogurt waffle cone upside down on Bull's head, serving him a big helping of his own stupidity.

Bull sprang to his feet, mouth gaping open, as the chilly cold made its way to his scalp. He grunted in disgust. Grabbing at the cold and crunchy mound on his head, he ran off in the direction of the bathroom.

_Just desserts. _Flinging the remnants of yogurt on her hand to the floor_,_ Carter grinned in satisfaction. "I guess revenge really is a dish best served cold. Yeah. Well, I'm not a princess." She looked wistfully at Chelsea's unscathed head. _It's a pity I didn't grab two._ Carter settled for giving Chelsea a murderous look and then followed Rosie outside.

Ed couldn't be more pleased with the footage he'd captured. He hurried after Carter.

* * *

"Um, Rosie. Do ya mind sitting in the back?" Ed asked, nervously. He hadn't exactly asked permission when he'd borrowed the vehicle. He didn't want to have to explain a puddle of melted yogurt on the upholstery too.

It was apparent from the expression on Rosie's face that she'd never had the pleasure of riding in the back of a pickup truck.

"Here," Carter said, taking Rosie's hand and helping her step up onto the truck. "I'll ride with you. It's okay."

Rosie nodded at Ed. "I do not mind."

Ed's face relaxed. He secured the tailgate. "Thanks, Rosie. I'll drive slowly."

The truck started down the road. The wind whipped across the girls' faces as they rode along. They were rocked gently in their seats by an occasional bump in the road.

"You didn't have to do that," Rosie said after a moment.

"Do what?" Carter asked with a shrug. "I ride in the back all the time."

"No." Rosie looked knowingly at her. "The glass windows are big. I saw everything."

"Oh." Carter had tried to wait until Rosie had exited the yogurt shop for fear Rosie would try to talk her out of it. "Well, I had to do something. Chelsea tried to humiliate you. Doesn't that matter to you? Doesn't it make you angry? Didn't you want to cry?" Carter thought back to the pained expression she had seen on Rosie's face after she'd enlightened her about Chelsea's true intentions.

Rosie's sticky clothes clung uncomfortably to her in the heat of the afternoon. "You are angry enough for the both of us, Carter Mason. Why should I waste tears on something that will not matter tomorrow?"

Carter held onto her amazement. "Wow. You're really something, you know that? How can you stay so calm?"

"I am a princess."

"Yeah." Carter smiled. "I get that." Her voice rang true with no hints of sarcasm. "And what you said to Chelsea. That took some guts."

Rosie fell silent. After a moment, she spoke again. "When you worked at the yogurt shop did she...?"

Carter wasn't one to waste words. She quickly answered Rosie's half-formed question. "Yeah, pretty much. Constant gibes. I got tired of it, so I quit. Worked for my dad. That's when they started calling me Bait Girl."

Rosie nodded and empathy flooded her. If today served as any indication, she imagined that nickname must have spread rapidly through the school community.

Rosie shielded her eyes from the sun and and watched the changing landscape as the truck traveled along the road. She kept an eye on Carter, wondering at the unguarded look currently on her face as she reminisced.

They had spoken many times in the last few days, but this wasn't a verbal battle. It didn't end in a shouting match or a door slamming. This felt like the first real conversation she'd ever had with Carter.

Simple. Honest. Bluntly to the point.

And she liked it.

* * *

Major Mason wasn't in sight when the girls stomped into the house after thanking Ed for the ride.

Rosie let out a sigh of relief. Then, she apprehensively looked down at the floor.

"It's wood," Carter said. "Nothing that a mop can't handle. Though you could still jump in the lake?"

Rosie shook her head at Carter. Both the idea of hosing off in the garden and jumping in the lake had been considered as options for cleaning off the sticky stuff on her person. In the end, Rosie had vetoed both ideas. She simply couldn't feel clean until she'd rid herself of the yogurt-soaked clothes and properly bathed, availing herself of the luxuries of body wash and shampoo.

Carter nodded. "Okay. Well, you'll need a towel and some clothes." Carter rushed in and out of rooms, gathering up the needed items. Then, she carried her load upstairs and returned, still searching about to make sure nothing had been forgotten.

Rosie stood in the middle of floor, watching Carter's swift movements. She had never seen this side of Carter. "I hope this isn't too much trouble," Rosie said, suddenly feeling uncertain. Getting on friendly terms with the Louisiana girl had been so difficult and Rosie feared Carter might change her mind.

Carter stopped in her tracks. "It'd be more trouble if you walk all over dripping everywhere. Believe me, the less mopping I have to do, the better. Dad doesn't appreciate a sticky floor."

Rosie carefully slid her feet out of her shoes, hoping to minimize tracking any dust that had adhered to their sticky soles. She looked down at her feet. She hummed, clearing her throat. "I would appreciate if, perhaps, you wouldn't mention this incident to Major Mason."

Carter smirked and placed a hand over her heart in mock shock. "What? You don't want my dear old dad to know about this?"

Rosie raised a yogurt-covered eyebrow. "I would prefer he did not."

Carter chuckled, recognizing how much Rosie valued her father's opinion. "I'm kidding. He'll know nothing about this, but we do live in a small town. Least I can promise is, he won't hear it from me." Carter pointed her thumb over her shoulder. "So, water's running. And I already left a change of clothes on top of the hamper for you."

Rosie started for the stairs and then turned back. She opened her mouth, trying to find something to say, but Carter had already grabbed a mop and was vigorously cleaning up the trail Rosie had left in her wake.

With a resigned sigh, Rosie climbed the steps and entered the bathroom. She closed the door and stripped off the soiled clothes, leaving them in a heap on the floor.

As she passed by the hamper on her way to the tub, she glanced at the clothes Carter had left for her.

Rosie smiled as she saw the outfit's predominant color.

Pink.


	16. Dreams

**_A/N:_**_I thought I'd treat my readers to this light chapter, but beware stormy seas are still ahead. And, we've hit 100 pages.:) Thanks again, each and everyone. On with the update!_

* * *

_Chapter 16: Dreams_

Rosie's spirits heightened the moment she stepped out of the bathroom sans yogurt. Her hair still felt slightly damp from the recent shampoo and she hadn't bothered to curl it again.

She found Carter waiting in the kitchen with all traces of the messy adventure erased. Carter looked up from the lined notebook paper spread on the island counter in front of her. "Dad's home," Carter informed her, pausing in her writing assignment. "He's out checking on the bait shop. He doesn't know a thing."

Rosie nodded and then her face fell as a thought struck her. "Carter?"

The stricken tone in Rosie's voice made Carter tense up. "Yes?"

"WhatChelseadid to me? Was it because I did poorly blending in?"

Steamed by the mere mention of the name, Carter dropped her pencil on the counter and rose from her chair. "Of course not! You didn't do anything wrong, Rosie. It was all about her." Still bristling, Carter walked over to the refrigerator, and pulled out two cans of cola. "You were getting too threatened by you. She was jealous."

"How do you know?"

Carter walked up and handed one can to Rosie. "Well, I have a confession to make."

Rosie held the beverage can in both hands. Serious brown eyes studied Carter. "Proceed."

Carter fiddled with the tab on her pop can. "Well I…I guess I was a bit jealous too."

"Why?"

"Why?" Carter shook her head, amazed Rosie even had to ask. "Because you're so good at everything! And sometimes I think, maybe, my dad wishes I was more like you."

Rosie smiled reassuringly. "Then, you have nothing to worry about, Carter."

Carter tapped the countertop with one hand, drumming her fingers against its surface. "You get your homework done right away, you offer to do chores, and you're always polite. Besides, I've seen how my dad treats you. He always enjoys talking with you."

"Yes." Rosie nodded in agreement. "Because we talk about you."

"Me?" Carter couldn't help sounding pleased. "Really?" Carter finally pressed the tab on the can and there was a hiss as the carbonated bubbles made their escape.

"You and your father are very close," Rosie said, hoping to draw Carter out. "Does he tell you about his missions?"

"Not really. Not in detail. He says it's a way of keeping me safe. The less I know, the better."

"And yet, he was willing to bring me here. Why is that the case?"

"Dad says you wouldn't trust anyone else."

"That is true but then, why bring me here?"

"Huh?"

"There are many other places I might have been brought. It did not have to be his home with his daughter."

Carter started to comprehend what Rosie was trying to say. "He would never do that."

Rosie nodded, encouraging Carter to continue. "Why not?"

"Because…that would have meant he would be away for who knows how long!" Carter scowled, not liking the idea at all.

"Away from you," Rosie concluded. "Your father loves you very much. And he was willing to risk bringing me here, so that he would not be away from you. So do not worry. As his daughter, Carter Mason, you are irreplaceable."

Carter kept quiet, letting those words sink in, and suddenly her lips twitched upwards at the corners.

The smile refused to go away.

* * *

If someone had told Carter a week ago that she would be having a friendly belching contest with a princess, she would have scoffed at the crazy idea. She might even have pushed the lunatic in the lake.

Carter giggled. "Nice!" She commented in response to the burp that issued from Rosie's throat.

It was a mad world after all.

The sun hung low in the sky and the evening breeze teased their hair as the two girls walked next to the water's edge. As her soda fizzed in the can, Carter gripped it tighter and ticked off a list with her other hand. "Okay. Next, we'll work on slouching, eye-rolling, and talking back to my dad."

"Oh." Rosie's lips turned up into a guilt-ridden smile. "If Mister Elegante could see me now, he would be so mad at me."

Laughter bubbled from Carter's throat before she realized that this was a person Rosie had never before mentioned. "Who's Mister Elegante?"

"My royal dress designer," Rosie informed her.

Carter raised an eyebrow. "You're kidding, right?"

"No. He is a close family friend. If there were ever an emergency, he would be the first I would call."

"Hmm." Carter mused as they came up beside a wooden bench swing. "Must be nice to be a queen."

Carter sat in the swing and Rosie settled in beside her, setting it in motion.

A far off look appeared on Rosie's face as she thought about what Carter had said. She remembered the servants and the fancy dinners and the other amenities of her life. Naturally, that was a part of her life, but it wasn't something her parents had ever emphasized as the most important. "Actually, it's not all about the dresses and crowns, Carter. My mother told me that my father never called himself king. To our people, he was father, brother, and friend. I hope to be like him when I am queen of Costa Luna."

As she spoke, Rosie had grown very serious. Carter smirked mischievously at Rosie's statement. "Father, brother…"

"No!" Rosie protested at Carter's silliness, laughing in spite of herself. Then, she smiled and explained with sweet sincerity. "I want to make a difference."

"To do something more important with your life?" Carter asked, eagerly. After all, she would feel pretty silly if the difference Rosie spoke of was changing the color of the drapes in the palace. Yet, somehow, Carter already knew it wasn't something that petty.

"Yes," Rosie clarified.

A warm feeling ebbed through Carter's veins and she felt a rush of excitement. She had never met someone her age with dreams that matched her own. She had never imagined a princess would have such goals.

Carter voiced her thoughts. "You know, you're different than what I thought a princess would be."

Mild anxiety crept into Rosie's voice. She didn't have a clear idea what Carter had expected princesses to be. "I hope that is a good thing."

"Yeah it is." Carter smiled warmly and nodded in confirmation. "I kinda thought all princesses would be shallow with a superiority complex and feel entitled to whatever they wanted."

Rosie looked calmly back at Carter. Warm brown eyes twinkled in understanding. "A sense of entitlement? Rather likeChelsea?"

Carter snorted. "Exactly. But I was wrong. You're nothing like that."

Rosie sensed it. They had started out on opposite sides, but a bridge now spanned the gap. The need to seek common ground had evaporated, because the two sides were united. It felt tangible-like a knot had been tied and a line had been raised, pulling them together.

Rosie's lips turned up and a wide grin spilled across her face. "I am glad." They rocked back and forth in the swing and Carter took another sip from her soda can. The words burst from Rosie's throat as if she could no longer rein in her gratitude. "Thank you for helping me today, Carter. A princess is never sure who her true friend is. Today I am sure."

Carter smiled back. "Me, too," she answered softly. She had to do something to break the gravity of the moment before she was tempted to do something silly (like give Rosie a hug), so she raised her can instead and nodded for Rosie to do the same.

Rosie followed suit.

They each took a large sip. Their ensuing burps sent them into peals of laughter. If they hadn't already been seated, they would have fallen over on the ground, laughing. Rocking with laughter, they leaned against each other for support.

Rosie wiped a tear from the corner of her eye and sat up straight as her giggles finally came to a rest. She watched as Carter's frame still shook with silent laughter. Rosie couldn't remember a time when she had been so amused and had so much fun simply doing nothing. She certainly hadn't laughed like this in a long while.

Carter had stopped laughing now. She gasped, trying to catch her breath.

Rosie sighed. "When we first met, I thought very little of you. For that, I apologize."

Knowing her new friend was being absolutely serious; Carter still found it hard to keep a straight face. "Yeah. Well. Same here."

Rosie craned her neck, watching Carter suspiciously. Carter wondered if she had accidentally giggled. She quickly spoke again. "I'm sorry, Rosie. I mean…I didn't mean to laugh at you. But sometimes you sound so formal. I can't help it."

"I do?"

"Yes. And you do it a lot."

"If my English sounds text book, it is because it is. I never learned slang expressions, Carter. I know very few expressions at all. There are not many native English speakers in Costa Luna from which to learn."

"I'll teach you some," Carter volunteered generously. "And anything else you wanna know." Carter's voice took on Rosie's formal air. "Consider me at your disposal."

Starting to understand Carter's sense of humor, Rosie laughed good-naturedly at the imitation. Then, her eyes lit up as she absorbed what Carter had said. "Anything?"

"Sure." Carter shrugged.

"I am curious about one thing in particular."

"Okay." Carter tilted her head. "What is it?"

"I want to know more about you," Rosie said. Her fingers played across the mouth of her soda can. She took a deep breath. "I want to know more about your mother."

Carter bit her lip. A line crinkled her brow. "She's not here."

"Where is she?" The question escaped Rosie's lips before she could think of a better way of phrasing it. "Is she d—"

"No." Carter shook her head, but did not meet Rosie's eyes. Carter blinked and brushed her shoes toes across the grass. "This may sound awful, but it'd be easier if she were dead. At least, maybe it wouldn't hurt so much. The not knowing where she is." Carter shifted in her seat on the swing, raising her head to face Rosie. "She—She left us. My dad and me. I woke up one day and she was gone."

"How old were you?"

"Seven."

Rosie looked at Carter with a mix of concern and sympathy. "How horrible! You are still angry with her?"

"Yes." As this confession left her lips, Carter felt a strange relief. It was like a breath she had been holding for years had been released.

Rosie leaned back in the swing, thinking hard. "That is why you were angry with me."

"Huh? What? No, Rosie! I'm not mad at you." Carter quickly shook her head.

Rosie bent to set her empty can down in the grass and then straightened once more "But you were before," she responded with a sad smile. "I thought it was because I did not do well blending in and caused so much trouble for you."

"No. You didn't cause me trouble. You…" Carter found herself fumbling for words. "Well, you did because- It's just that you were such a princess and literally a princess, and you reminded me. You reminded me—of her."

Rosie scrunched her forehead. Her brown eyes glittered with puzzlement. "But your mother was not a princess?"

"No." Carter dug her heels into the ground, halting the swing. "Look, it's difficult to explain."

Rosie studied Carter's face. "Try."


	17. Fears

_**A/N:** One reviewer sent me 5 alert/favs about this story in one day, which prodded me to finish my revisions and get this part posted ASAP. Thank you everyone who reviewed, it helps me defeat writer's block.  


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_Chapter 17: Fears_

Carter couldn't speak.

She didn't talk about this with anyone. Ever. She had pushed all these memories to a back door of her mind, locked it, and destroyed the key.

_Try._

Carter teetered on the decision. Rosie's plea pounded on the door, rattling its rusty hinges, and Carter had never felt more like releasing what had been shut so tightly away. She wanted to speak, but an inexplicable fear kept her tongue still. The past ran deep and this newborn friendship fought against years of habitual silence.

Carter sprang to her feet, quickly draining the contents of her can. She said the first thing that popped into her head. "You ever crushed a can?

Russet brown eyes narrowed in confusion.

"It's simple really," Carter continued in a tutorial tone. "Some guys think it's cool to squash it against the forehead. But I've always preferred the simple stomp." Carter placed her can on a patch of gravel on the ground. Raising one foot above the can and bringing it down again, Carter made short work of the can.

The Louisiana teen held up the flattened can like it was prize and grinned at Rosie. "Now, you try."

Rosie wasn't entirely fooled by this deflection, but she couldn't help the smile creeping onto her face at the playfulness in Carter's actions. She pictured Carter as a little girl stomping on cans just because she could.

Rosie reached down for the can she had left in the grass. She left the swing, bringing the can with her.

Carter pointed out a spot on the ground. "Put it there. Go for it! As hard as you can."

Rosie did as directed. The first time her foot applied pressure the aluminum popped as the can buckled halfway.

"Not bad," Carter critiqued. "For a beginner."

It wasn't as flat as the one Carter had done, so Rosie tried again, jumping this time. The can crunched downwards beneath her foot and she felt a surge of satisfaction. She glanced at Carter for an assessment.

Carter nodded her approval. Her voice took on a British tone. "Smashing." Dropping the accent and picking up the two crushed pop cans, Carter said, "Well, we should probably go see about…"

Carter jumped as her father's voice carried across the yard. "Carter! Rosie! Dinner."

"Dinner," Carter repeated under her breath.

She took a step towards the cabin and then stopped as she met with resistance.

Rosie had reached out, grasping Carter's shirt sleeve lightly with her right hand. The princess of Costa Luna raised a determined eyebrow. She spoke succinctly. "After dinner?"

Carter's face clouded with emotion. "Why do you want to know so badly?"

"Why?" Rosie released her hold on Carter's sleeve. "How can you not talk about something—someone so important to you?" Rosie left the question lingering in the air as she turned towards the cabin.

"Wait!"

The sound of Carter's voice made Rosie pause, but her eyes remained on the path ahead of her. She yielded to the request and listened intently.

Carter sighed. "It's….it's because. My dad and I. We don't talk about it. It's like we agreed to forget. Because, sometimes, it's better to forget."

The honesty of Carter's words must have touched a chord in the princess. Not turning around, she simply nodded as understanding dawned. "Is that what you truly believe, Carter Mason?"

The sky had turned a deep shade of pink painting the edges of the clouds in purple as the sun continued its descent in the horizon.

Carter walked up beside Rosie. Her brief answer held the promise of more to come. "After dinner."

* * *

After they entered the house through the porch and walked into the kitchen, both girls stopped in surprise.

"You….you cooked? On the stove?" Carter asked her father, staring towards the steaming pot on the stovetop. The smell of oregano and tomato sauce floated through the air. Her dad was wearing an apron.

Joe Mason grinned at his daughter. "That's what stoves are for." He nodded towards Rosie. "I wanted to return the favor."

A huge smile appeared on Rosie's face. "Thank you. It's lovely."

Joe nodded and turned towards his daughter. "Why the face? You love my spaghetti!"

Carter quickly amended her expression and nodded. "Yeah. Thanks, Dad."

"What are you standing there for? Wash up so we can eat."

"Sure." Carter tossed the flattened cans in a plastic bag. "I'll be down in a sec." Carter raced off towards the bathroom to grab a quick shower.

Rosie opted for washing her hands in the kitchen sink.

Twenty minutes later, the three sat at the table enjoying a delicious meal of spaghetti and meatballs.

Joe stabbed a meatball with his fork. "So what were you girls up to today?"

"Nothing," Carter said too quickly and twirled the spaghetti noodles around her fork.

"Nothing?" Carter's dad quirked an eyebrow.

Carter focused on her plate. "I mean, just working."

"Yes," Rosie said with a smile at Carter. "Working."

Mason swallowed his meatball. He was clearly picturing the last time Rosie had been in the bait shop. "Really?" he asked, skeptically.

Rosie nodded calmly. "I believe when it comes to jobs I have not yet discovered my niche. However, Carter was very helpful today."

Mason relaxed at that and nodded. He poured more sauce onto his plate. "Well, good. Glad to see you two getting along."

"I was wondering," Rosie began, picking up her glass of water. "Do you have any news? About my mother?"

Mason's expression grew serious. He chose his words carefully. "Your mother is still being held as a captive by General Kane. Other than that, there is very little I can tell you."

Carter frowned silently and continued to eat.

Rosie set her water glass down on the table. "My mother is very important to me, Major Mason," Rosie said, deliberately addressing the agent by his title. "I want to know if anything changes. Because if there is danger…"

"As I stated before, my main priority is protecting you," Mason replied honestly.

"I am aware of your mission, but I do not understand in regard to my mother…" Rosie started to say.

Casting Rosie a sympathetic look, Carter set down her fork and interjected, "That's what the job's all about, right, Dad? Keeping secrets."

Rosie felt shocked by this enlightenment. "So if something happens to my mother? If she disappears or…or—Then, you—you might not _tell_ me?"

"What Carter said is the truth. Certain pieces of information cannot be disclosed. It's how the PPP operates, Rosie," Mason replied in a patient tone. "Whatever it takes to ensure your safety."

Rosie's brown eyes widened with worry. "But she is well for now? You are certain?"

"Yes." Mason wiped his hands on his napkin and set it beside his plate. "Yes, she is. And that is thanks, mainly, to you, Rosie. And your help, Carter. As long as you stay hidden, Rosie. At present, Kane's plans cannot move forward without you. Trust me."

Rosie pursed her lips. Her fork dropped beside her plate. "Thank you for dinner. I wish to retire." Rosie stood up, throwing her napkin across her plate. She pushed her vacated chair to the table, resting her palms on the back for a moment. "I do trust you," Rosie said, not wanting to seem rude or ungrateful for all the Mason family had done for her. "It is General Kane I do not trust. Goodnight, Mister Mason."

Mason nodded with understanding. "Goodnight, Rosie."

Rosie glanced at Carter. "See you after dinner, Carter?"

Chewing a mouthful of food, Carter grunted and waved her fork in agreement.

A promise was a promise.

* * *

The princess had already changed into her sleepwear, but she was obviously not asleep when Carter finally followed her. Rosie sat in the window seat, staring out the window. The night was clear and the moonlight sparkled on the surface of the lake with the moon itself being mirrored by the water.

Carter wasn't certain if Rosie had heard her enter the room. She stood awkwardly next to her bed, wondering how this conversation should begin when Rosie solved the problem for her.

The princess gestured towards the window framing the luminous sphere in the dark sky and began to speak.

"When I was very little and my father had to go away on trips, I had a hard time letting him go. He always told my mother and me to look up into the sky at night and find the moon. To think of him. And to remember that, wherever he was, he was looking at the same moon and thinking of me too." Rosie turned away from the window to look at Carter. "Because no matter how far apart, we shared the moon together." Rosie smiled softly. "The same moon."

"Your dad," Carter said, setting the alarm on her clock for the morning. "Sounds really amazing. Wish I could have known him."

Rosie nodded appreciatively. "In many ways your father reminds me of him."

"Yeah?" Carter stretched out across the cover on her bed, thinking about the conversation in the kitchen.

Carter could hardly believe the rapt interest the princess of Costa Luna displayed in her everyday life. The teen had never found her own life that interesting, but Rosie certainly found it riveting. Maybe because this topic was a needed distraction from weightier troubles—troubles that Carter barely even wanted to contemplate.

And suddenly, Carter felt useful.

"Yes." Rosie climbed off the window seat and walked over to Carter's bed. Carter pulled up her knees, leaving space for Rosie to sit on her bed. Sitting with her feet dangling off the bed, Rosie adjusted the locket around her neck. Then, Rosie's eyes roamed over the walls of the room, darting over to several photos on Carter's desk. Carter had expected talking about the long banished subject to feel like an interrogation, but Rosie had eased her way into the material so carefully that it didn't seem like much of a shock when the next question arose. "There are not any pictures. How do I remind you of her?"

Carter hadn't spoken about her mother for years. Now, the stopper had been taken out and everything flowed out like a downpour with no hint of letting up soon. "She liked frills and lace and pink. She used to read me stories of princes and princesses. She had these marvelous dreams that sounded like fairy tales. She loved to cook and paint and sing."

Rosie smiled sadly. "She sounds wonderful."

Carter took a deep breath and pulled one of her pillows into her lap. "That's why I tried to forget. Everything. It hurt too much to remember. And whenever I thought about it, I just got so mad at everything and everybody. So it was just…easier that way."

"And then, when I came—"

"I started to remember. When you cooked for us and put that pretty tablecloth out and the way Dad was smiling about it all." Carter clutched the pillow to her heart. "It was like everything exploded. It all came flooding back. Everything that we were missing. And it all was your fault."

"Oh." Rosie dropped her eyes to the floor and couldn't keep out the hurt tone that crept into her voice. If those were the thoughts running through Carter's mind when Rosie presented the dinner, it was little wonder that the teen had reacted the way she did.

"You asked too many questions and you made us remember. But as much as I wanted to blame you, Rosie, I couldn't. Somewhere, deep down, I knew it wasn't your fault at all." Carter's lips trembled. "It's mine. She left."

Rosie raised her head to stare directly at Carter in disbelief.

Carter choked out her next words bitterly. "And it's my fault."


	18. Open Doors

**A/N:**_ For those who politely requested an update soon, here it is!__:) Anticipation helps inspiration, enjoy!  
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_Chapter 18: Open Doors  
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"How could it be your fault?" Rosie instantly regretted her tone which morphed her innocent question into a challenging retort. It conveyed her skepticism on the guilt that Carter so readily claimed.

_Mistake. _Rosie chided herself, but the damage had been done.

She felt the bed shift as Carter rolled over, slipping under the covers and lying face down on the pillow. "Never mind. Shouldn't have told you." Carter's gruff voice, muffled by the fluffy pillow, lacked the all-too-familiar beat of angry annoyance that usually pounded Rosie's eardrums. No explosions occurred. Instead, she detected weary resignation as Carter prepared to retire from the conversation altogether.

Rosie winced. Carter was withdrawing, closing up, about to slide behind that aloof mask that warned the world away.

_Not this time. _No amount of surliness was going to work. Rosie held the key to the secrets behind the mask. She knew the angry girl was a lie. A lie that shielded an unfathomable fear. And this fear led to an even deeper pain. She had seen that flash of pain in Carter's eyes too many times and she refused to allow Carter to wallow in unhappiness any longer.

Yellow lamplight cast a soft glow over the room.

"Carter, I am glad you told me." Rosie changed her position, sitting cross-legged on the foot of the bed. Her hands rested in her lap. "Because it is not your fault," Rosie repeated the sentiment with conviction.

Carter rolled, lifting her face slightly off the pillow. Her dark hair had fallen forward, obscuring most of her face, but now one brown eye peered darkly at the princess. "How would you know?"

Rosie could hear it in Carter's voice—the tiniest sliver of hope. "You were seven years old."

Carter heaved a sigh. "I couldn't stop her. I didn't make her stay. I didn't even try."

"You were _seven _years old."

Head leaving the pillow completely, Carter pushed herself up on her elbows. Her eyes were dim. "You weren't there. You didn't see—"

Rosie arched an eyebrow and leaned forward a little. "Whatever happened, I know it was something out of your control, Carter. Had you tried to change it, the outcome would likely be the same." Rosie examined the troubled girl before her and then said, "What makes you believe you were the cause? What reason did your mother give for her departure?"

Shoulders shrugged. "She left. She didn't give a reason."

"Not even later. Surely she contacted you later?"

Carter shook her head. "No."

"Or left a note?"

Carter's brow wrinkled. "No. Not a note. Not one word."

Rosie found herself growing angrier and angrier with this woman she had never even met. What type of mother could leave such a wonderful family? Who could callously walk away from Carter Mason and her father and never look back?

It didn't make any sense to Rosie. "But your father? What exactly happened between them?"

"I don't know," Carter said miserably.

"You never asked?"

Carter sat up fully, resting her back against the pillows at the head of her bed. "You didn't see my dad right after she left us. It was like…he just stopped talking to me whenever I tried to ask him about anything. Do you know how scary it is to be a little girl and see your dad cry?" Carter paused, staring towards the wall that held her desk.

Rosie followed the gaze, noting a photo of Carter as a little girl in corduroys that rested on the desk next to the computer.

Carter swallowed. "I never brought up the subject after that. Then, time passed and my dad started caring about stuff again. I had some trouble at school and my dad found out. We talked and things started to get better between us. And that was the first time he told me about the Princess Protection Program. After that, whatever had happened between my parents didn't seem to matter so much. I had my dad back and that was all that was most important. Because he was still there for me. The only one who really was. So we didn't talk about _her_, and I never asked him. Didn't want to, because then he would know."

"Know what?"

Dark brown eyes darted away from Rosie's curious gaze. "Nothing," she said unconvincingly.

Rosie sighed inwardly at the evasion, but halted that line of questioning. Instead, she asked, "Did you ever try to find her?"

Carter's head moved from side to side. "Why would I—no!"

"Do you want to?"

"She left me. She hasn't tried to contact me in all these years. Why should I try?"

"Because then you could find out what you want to know. What you need to know."

The teen scoffed. "I've lived in the same house, the same town, all these years. She never came back to try and see me."

Rosie knew well how adults did not always tell their children everything. "Are you certain?"

Carter was adamant. "My dad would have told me."

Rosie frowned at her own thoughts. "Do you think she is dead?"

"No," Carter grumbled.

"You should ask," Rosie insisted and her eyes lit up at the idea.

"My dad? _No._"

Rosie kept her composure in the face of the glare Carter shot her. "Then, you would know for sure. You would not have to wonder."

"She left. End of story."

"Perhaps he thought the knowledge would be too traumatic for you," Rosie speculated.

"Like I said, I'd be better off knowing if she were dead. Then, I wouldn't have all these questions. Dad would have told me."

This seemed like a convincing argument. "So, she is alive," Rosie concluded purposefully. "Somewhere, she exists."

"Yes. Somewhere." Carter breathed out, cementing her decision. "And I'm gonna find her."

"Good." Rosie nodded. She felt glad to see a spark of life returning to the pair of dark brown eyes. Rosie stopped nodding at Carter's next words.

"But don't tell my dad."

* * *

_Was that smoke?_

Monday morning had arrived with the alarm Carter had set blaring in her ears. A quick glance told Carter that Rosie still had been the earlier riser. Carter stumbled sleepily out of bed, grabbed her clothes for school, and went to take a shower. As she rinsed the shampoo from her hair, she could have sworn she smelled smoke. Dressing quickly, she stumbled down the stairs and the smoky scent assailed her nostrils with its full, unadulterated force.

Carter breathed it in and her mouth watered.

_It's bacon!_

She ran into the kitchen and the sounds of a sizzling pan and the warmth of hot, steaming food surrounded her.

The island counter had been cleared of miscellaneous items and replaced with a tall pitcher of orange juice and a clear bowl brimming with frosty purple black grapes, bright green kiwi, red watermelon, yellow chunks of pineapple, and various other gem-colored bits of aromatic fruit.

Rosie, meticulously dressed for school, wore a radiant smile. "Good morning, Carter."

"Hey, pal," her father greeted, holding a mug of coffee. "Rosie thought you might be feeling a little blue. Suggested we do something nice to cheer you up."

Rosie handed Carter a fork. "We made you breakfast."

With his free hand, Mason pulled out a plate that had been warming on the stove and set it on the counter.

The sunlight streaming in through the porch and windows illuminated the grin on Carter's face. She scrambled over to the counter and clambered onto a bar stool.

Rosie chuckled, spooned some of the fruit into a small bowl, and set it next to Carter's plate. "Buen provecho, Carter. That means bon appétit. Enjoy!"

The eggs and bacon adorning the ceramic plate were a welcome sight, but Carter was puzzled by a mound of brown paste.

"Frijoles," Rosie explained. "Good with eggs. Try it."

Carter tentatively scooped some on her fork and tasted it. Then, she focused her attention on the bacon and eggs, even deeming to devour part of the fruit salad. Mason and Rosie had already preceded Carter in breakfasting, but suddenly they both grinned and watched her in amusement.

"What?" Carter asked, catching their look.

"You are humming," said Rosie.

Mason crossed his arms. "Carter's always done that since she was a baby," he told Rosie. "But only if she thinks the food's really good."

"Daaad!"

"Am I embarrassing you?" Mason smirked at his daughter.

Rosie grinned wider. It wasn't hard to guess where Carter had inherited her mischievous streak.

The bus honked.

Carter's fork clattered to the counter. "Bother! I forgot to—"

"Here," said Rosie, handing the amazed girl her backpack. It already contained Carter's schoolbooks and papers.

"Uh, thanks."

Rosie shouldered her own bag and headed for the door. "Have a good day, Mister Mason."

"Bye, Dad!" As Carter followed Rosie out the swinging door, she couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at what had been accomplished. Rosie finally seemed be getting a handle on school.

* * *

Carter sensed it when they entered the school grounds. A strange excitement filled the air. The flow of students trickled forward hurriedly, not stopping to make casual conversation.

"Wait, where is everyone going?" Carter asked before she realized that this hustle and bustle could only mean one thing. The late night conversation with Rosie had temporarily banished it from her mind._ Oh, that's right, the vote._

The same thought must have occurred to Rosie. Principal Burkle's megaphone squawked loudly as he prepared to announce the vote results. "We must hurry, Carter!" Rosie grabbed Carter's wrist and rushed up the walk.

"Okay. You're way too into this princess thing," Carter protested weakly. The energetic girl pulling her towards the cafeteria had recently orchestrated one of the best breakfasts she'd eaten in a very long time. Her stomach was full and Carter felt rather indulgent.

They arrived inside in time to hear Principal Burkle listing the winners. "Chelsea Barnes!"

The blonde French teacher, dressed elegantly in black, removed a tiara from a red pillow. Chelsea accepted it, wearing it proudly.

Spattered applause came from the students. Rosie clapped politely. Carter didn't bother.

Chelsea lapped up the attention.

The principal read the next name from his clipboard. "Carter Mason!"

At the sound of her name, Carter's mouth fell open in amazement. She stiffened like a statue and glanced around the room. Had she heard that right? For all their earlier ridicule, Chelsea and Brooke didn't seem the least bit surprised. In fact, they were grinning.

_I must be dreaming._ Suddenly, arms squeezed her shoulders and sides tightly as Rosie gave her an excited hug.

_It's not a dream. _Through the momentary daze that had settled on Carter's brain, the sound of clapping reached her ears. Rosie's arms dropped away from Carter as she joined in the clapping.

Mademoiselle Devereux stepped over and crowned Carter with a sparkly plastic tiara.

For a brief moment, Carter wondered if she were on one of those hidden camera shows. Her eyes searched hopefully for Ashton Kutcher. But then again, Ashton Kutcher's presence would spell disaster if a broadcast containing Rosie was seen by the wrong people. She ceased hoping to spot a television camera crew. In fact, she most violently felt the opposite. If Ashton Kutcher had the misfortune to show his face right then, it would have been pummeled by a tiara.

Principal Burkle announced the third winner. "Rosie González!"

Nearby Brooke gasped in shock, but the sound was drowned out by the applauding students. Chelsea's expression turned sour.

Rosie accepted her own sparkly tiara graciously. Loud cheers and hoots filled the cafeteria. Rosie nodded, not the least cowed by the attention she was receiving. She looked comfortably at home as she thanked the crowd for their support.

Carter's brow creased in worry.

It was no surprise that Princess Rosalinda had won over enough hearts at Lake Monroe High to become a homecoming princess. Though Carter was pretty certain that staying undercover didn't mean garnering so much attention in the community, no matter how innocent it might be.

And, speaking of unwanted attention, the tiara atop her own dark head began to weigh heavily on Carter.

_This could only spell trouble._


	19. Loyalty

_Chapter 19: Loyalty_

The crowded cafeteria made her nervous.

Carter recovered enough from her shock to move her limbs again. She grabbed Rosie's hand and pulled her out of the cafeteria into the school courtyard. They passed by the round, umbrella-covered tables located just outside the cafeteria. These were a popular spot for students to congregate in the mornings and eat lunch at noon, but this morning most of the tables were open and empty. Carter gratefully took in the quiet scene and began to walk more slowly. With less noise and distraction maybe she could sort through the jumbled thoughts currently bouncing around inside her head.

Carter kept a grip on Rosie's forearm as they walked along. She yanked the tiara off her head with her free hand. "This is not good, okay?" Carter struggled to explain what was on her mind. "_Me_ being a princess is not normal. I mean who would vote for me?"

"I did," Rosie said simply.

"Well, I know you did…What?" Carter's tone changed as Rosie's words sunk in. "I mean, you did?"

"Of course! I asked Ed to put in my vote for me. He voted for you too."

And then, a confident, suave voice suddenly interrupted them. "Hey, there."

Carter released Rosie's arm and her hands dropped to her sides as she recognized the familiar voice. She pivoted abruptly to find Donny standing mere inches away. Her mouth hung open a little and her throat felt dry. Her heart began to race inside her chest. It was rare Donny ever sought out her company. It had always been the other way around. Carter had pictured the day Donny would walk up to her with a smile meant only for her to see and…Carter caught her breath. _Could this finally be it?_

Rosie turned too and squinted at Donny, confused by his perplexing presence. His group of friends and followers were strangely absent which was an oddity in itself. Rosie waited politely for him to speak. Perhaps he had come to offer his congratulations on their new titles.

Donny marched the last few steps up to them, barely glancing Carter's way. He fiddled with the strap of the backpack he wore over his shoulder. "Hey, Rosie, can I talk to you?"

He didn't say it, but punctuated the end of his question with a captivating smile and a change in tone. The message was telegraphed loud and clear. _Alone._ He wanted to talk with her _alone_.

For the second time this morning, Carter froze in pure astonishment. Strangely, it now occurred to her that Donny never had trouble remembering Rosie's name.

"Me?" Rosie asked apprehensively with a worried glance at her friend.

"Her?" Carter gasped as if she had been punched in the gut.

"Yeah," Donny reaffirmed and though Carter wasn't scrambling away he seemed to forget her completely. His voice took on a shy tone as he focused entirely on Rosie. "So you know there's the homecoming dance and everything and um…" Donny cocked his head a little in a way that Carter always found adorable. "Will you go to the dance with me, Rosie?"

Carter blinked. Her face fell. These were the words that Carter had been waiting for years to hear from Donny's lips. But the boy of her dreams was saying them to someone else.

"Me?" Rosie questioned doing her best to keep her tone neutral, but a tinge of dismay still crept in. Her brow furrowed as she struggled to live up to her training and be polite. She found it unsettling that the boy Carter liked thought nothing of asking a complete stranger to be his date right in front of Carter. Although Rosie kept her eyes on Donny, she didn't have to imagine the depths of the anguish Carter now swam in. Rosie heard it in the ragged breathing beside her and in the syllable uttered like the warning note of a foghorn on a dark night.

"Her?" Carter's voice echoed helplessly as the shards of shattered illusions rained down at her feet.

This time the boy didn't even acknowledge that Carter had spoken. "Yeah," Donny answered Rosie with a flirtatious air as his ears turned a bright shade of pink. Was he not making himself clear? "I want you to be my date to the dance." His bashful tone was marred by a hint of smugness. Donny knew that his invitation was highly sought after, and he hoped to win over Rosie by making sure she knew it too.

Words couldn't be plainer than that. Carter bit her lip and her vision blurred. She sucked in a breath and turned away quickly. She didn't need to hear another word or put herself through this torture another second.

"Donny, that is very kind you," Rosie began politely. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Carter retreating rapidly. "But, no." She shook her head. "Will you excuse me?" Without waiting for a response, she ran after Carter, knowing how well that girl could completely disappear in the maze-like halls of Lake Monroe High.

"Uh." Donny watched in bewilderment as Rosie dashed away. "Sure," he said to the empty air. Girls didn't generally run away from him. Rosie hadn't even seemed interested in his invite. His face scrunched up as he tried to think over what he'd said. He shrugged, clueless and walked off in bafflement. Where had it all gone wrong?

* * *

"And here she is now, _Princess_ Rosie Gonzalez, the cousin of Lake Monroe's very own _Princess_ Carter Mason. Does success run in the family? So Rosie, you've just become Homecoming princess, would you care to comment?" Ed questioned in his best narrator voice as he caught Rosie outside the door of French class.

For once, the princess frowned at the glare of the camera lens, completely unconcerned about the image she projected. She stared at the shaggy-haired boy with only one purpose in mind. "Edwin, have you seen Carter?"

"What?" Ed lowered his camera, tucking it under his arm. He could see the distress on her face. "Ah, no. I thought she was with you. You're kinda like twins that way. What's up?"

They stepped inside the classroom together as Rosie shook her head. "She is not. She is upset."

Ed's eyes darted about the room. "Wow." He plopped down at his desk while Rosie remained standing. Ed sighed. "Upset enough not to come to class? She never misses this class because, then she wouldn't get to gawk at…I mean, she wouldn't get to talk and practice her French. Did this Homecoming thing really upset her that much?"

"Yes," Rosie replied, preferring not to explain the specific Homecoming-related detail that had caused Carter to flee to parts unknown. She watched as Mademoiselle Devereux entered the door and sat down with a stack of folders.

"But she won." Ed shook his head. "I thought she'd at least be a little happy."

Rosie did not attempt to correct his assumptions. "Where might she go?"

Ed rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Well, I guess, there's a couple places, but we can't leave class right now. Ah, Rosie?"

Ed watched as Rosie approached the teacher's desk and began to chat with their teacher. The conversation in French flew by too quickly to catch, especially with the distraction of the other students filing into class.

Ed only caught the last part of their conversation. "Pouvons-nous être excusés?" Rosie asked sweetly.

"Oui." Mademoiselle Devereux smiled and nodded. She pulled out a slip, sat down and began to write at her desk. She handed Rosie an index card and the slip of paper.

Rosie walked over to the door then nodded at Ed, waiting.

The amateur film maker pointed to himself awkwardly. "Me?" he mouthed.

Rosie nodded mutely.

Looking around nervously, Ed tucked his camera into his bag and approached the door.

"Ed?" called Mademoiselle Devereux.

Ed shoulder's tensed as he turned back, looking like he was about to have a heart attack. He threw his hands up in defeat. "I was just—"

The French teacher inclined her head towards him with a smile. "Thank you for offering your help, Ed. You are a true gentleman."

Ed lowered his arms. "Uh…yeah. No problem," he said, nodding at the unexpected praise. He fumbled with the door and then slipped out after Rosie. The tall boy didn't move a muscle until it securely shut behind him. Then, he blew out a puff of air, clearing several unruly strands of black hair from his eyes. "What was _that_?" he asked, stepping away from the door as the school bell rung.

"You would do anything to help Carter, would you not?"

Ed crossed his arms. "Well, of course I would."

"Then, where would she go?"

* * *

The school bell rang.

Carter kept walking. Her eyes were glued to the tiles under her feet and her vision had finally begun to clear. She should probably be heading to class, but her feet refused to comply with the thought. The threat of tears had fled, but she didn't really have a strong desire to sit through a class where she had to stare at the back of Donny's head and brood over what had happened in the courtyard.

The musty smell of books and paper tickled her nose as she walked through the doors.

Her presence went unchallenged by the busy librarian. Carter browsed the bookshelves for a moment, but nothing caught her eye. She finally settled at one of the library computers in a low traffic area and logged into the internet.

Steps shuffled up behind her. At first, Carter thought it might be the librarian coming to check her nonexistent pass and then she heard an unmistakable soft voice.

"Carter?"

Carter continued to focus on the screen. Even spending time in one of her favorite refuges hadn't managed to wash away the feelings of mortification. There was a hard edge in her voice as she finally responded. "Did you cut class? Not very princessly of you."

"No! We've been looking everywhere for you. Carter, I wanted to explain…"

"We?" Carter looked away from the computer screen. "How did you know where to find me?"

Rosie glanced back and Carter spotted Ed standing near the library entrance. He waved, stuck his hands in his pockets, and shuffled over.

"You okay, Carter?" Ed whispered with an awareness of the library surroundings.

"I'll be fine." Carter cast a questioning look at Rosie, wondering how much she'd told Ed.

Rosie returned the look with a nervous smile. "Thank you, Edwin. Now, I wish to speak with Carter."

"Your wish is my command," Ed said with a cheesy grin and half a bow. "See you later, ladies." Rosie and Carter watched his departure before Rosie slipped into the chair of the adjoining computer station.

Carter's eyes returned to the computer screen. "So, you and Ed skip to find me?"

"No, we are excused." Rosie held up a written pass and waved it in front of Carter's nose. "Ed came as my guide. I spoke with Mademoiselle Devereux."

Carter took the pass and was surprised to find her name included. "You're not kidding. And she agreed?"

"Yes, she is a big supporter of Homecoming and she was only too happy to allow us time away from class especially after I offered to tutor you in French." Rosie handed Carter an index card listing the assigned homework. "Be sure to bring your textbook home with you tonight."

Carter only nodded.

"Now." Rosie folded her hands, twiddling her thumbs. "About Donny."

Carter groaned immediately. "What time is he picking you up?"

Rosie's jaw dropped. "He is not! I told him 'no'."

"No? You said 'no'?" Carter asked incredulously. The librarian shot her a dirty look and Carter lowered her voice. "But you like him." Carter shrugged resignedly and pulled her backpack across her shoulder. "Everybody likes him." The Lake Monroe student stood and abruptly headed for the exit.

The princess didn't hesitate to rise and follow.

Rosie walked closely beside her friend as they entered the hallway. Rosie shook her head. The clarity of her voice tone rang with a warm undercurrent, but her words were matter-of-fact. "_You_ like him. I could not go with a boy that you liked."

Carter looked at Rosie like she had come from another planet. Perhaps Costa Luna was close enough, because the princess was definitely on a completely different page than everyone else. There were plenty of girls at Lake Monroe who would give anything to have the opportunity that Rosie had turned down so quickly and apparently without a second thought. Carter would have given anything to have the opportunity to—Carter swallowed the rest of her thoughts as Rosie's last statement hit home.

_I could not go with a boy that you liked._

Rosie wasn't like those other girls.

Moisture sprang into Carter's eyes again, but for entirely different reasons. "Okay," Carter finally said. She sniffed and then held up her pointer finger for emphasis. "Can we not talk about this now?"

Rosie nodded solemnly. "By all means, consider the subject closed."

The rest of Carter's day rushed by like a blur until the girls reached home. Rosie had proudly worn her sparkly tiara the entire day, even during their ride on the school bus, and Carter didn't have the heart to comment on it. As they walked through the house, Carter felt ready to burst. The wave of emotion she had kept suspended throughout the day washed over her and her resolution not to talk crumbled like a sandcastle beneath it.

Carter walked over the threshold of the bedroom and the words began to flow.

"That was the most humiliating thing that has ever happened to me," Carter vented. She dropped her backpack and tiara on the wood floor. "And I've been humiliated a lot."


	20. A New Lesson

**Disclaimer:** Princess Protection Program and its characters belong to the Disney Channel and are borrowed here for the purposes of free entertainment.

**A/N: **_Thank you for reviewing_**. **_Yes, our story continues._ _(Incidentally, watched DCOM 16 Wishes written by Annie DeYoung. Who else thought the BFF necklaces with crowns looked like something for Rosie and Carter?)__

* * *

_

_Chapter 20: A New Lesson_

"What was I thinking?" Carter lamented. "A boy like Donny would never go out with me."

After the misunderstanding he had created with Carter, Donny was not Rosie's favorite subject at the moment. She had watched Carter mope through the day because of him and couldn't stand to see her like this any longer. Rosie arched an eyebrow. "Then, he is not worthy of you," she said indignantly. Rosie sat on Carter's bed, wearing her tiara proudly. Normally, Rosie looked for the best in people but if Donny was too shallow to appreciate Carter and too self-absorbed to even bother remembering Carter's name, then he certainly was not worth sulking over.

Carter shrugged, dropping down into an afghan-covered armchair by her bed. "Yeah, you can say that because you're all high and royal. But I'm just an ordinary girl who sells bait."

"No, you are not," Rosie objected. The princess pointed to the abandoned tiara lying on the floor, reminding the bait girl of what had been accomplished today. "You are so much more. You are a princess now."

"Yeah." Carter scoffed and shook her head. "Trust me, I am _not a princess_."

"Yes, you are," Rosie insisted stubbornly. She smiled softly. "You just do not feel like one yet." Rosie looked at her friend, thinking about what she observed over the past few days. Carter wore baggy t-shirts and cutoff jeans and baseball caps. She had no idea she was beautiful.

Rosie felt determined to change that.

Principal Burkle had stated that the princesses of homecoming should be of exemplary character, charitable and kind. Under such criteria, Chelsea Barnes wasn't even half the princess Rosie knew Carter could be. But convincing Carter of that might prove to be a challenge.

Warm brown eyes gleamed softly as Rosie smiled. "When I first came here, you taught me how to be normal, not royal." Rosie bit back a laugh, realizing in hindsight the trouble she had put Carter through. "Now, it is my turn to teach you."

_Princess lessons? That's so Princess Diaries. _A slight smile tugged at Carter's lips. She raised her head, listening to Rosie's words intently.

"You think that being a princess is superficial," Rosie began.

"Yeah, I guess." It was what Carter had thought. Once. Rosie had started to change her view on princesses.

"That it is about how you look and what you wear." Rosie paused, pondering. She would have liked to heartily deny this fact, but all the fittings for dresses with Mister Elegante and appointments with her royal hairdresser said otherwise. Mister Elegante always obsessed over her clothes, explaining that impressions stemmed first from what people saw.

"Well, it is a little about how you look," Rosie admitted honestly, her argument losing steam briefly. But then, she rolled her point ahead and its momentum picked right back up. "But more importantly, it is what you have to offer the world and who you are on the inside." Rosie smiled confidently. "And it is what you do and the reason why you do it which speaks volumes about your character…even more than what you say."

Carter frowned thoughtfully. "Is that why when I kept telling you to go away and slamming doors in your face that you didn't think I was a total jerk?"

"No, I still thought you were a jerk. But I tried to understand why."

"Okay," said Carter with an amused grin. She had always enjoyed psychology. "What did you come up with then?"

"I have a theory." Rosie mirrored the grin on Carter's face.

"Care to share it?"

"You push people away on purpose. You challenge them in order to see."

Carter gulped. "To see what?"

Rosie turned dead serious. "If they are truly there for you or not."

Carter coughed. She hadn't expected the insight to be so amazingly accurate. "How did you…." Carter stammered unable to form the words on her tongue.

"It is alright, Carter. I understand. It is something I learned when I was very young. Sometimes, people pretend to be what they are not. My father used to say, '_Caras vemos, corazones no sabemos.' _We see faces, not hearts. He told me that is what matters the most."

Carter felt intrigued.

She was even more intrigued once Rosie issued the invitation. "Come on, Carter. Let's go find your inner princess."

The idea grabbed her and Rosie's excitement was catching.

Carter simply couldn't say no.

* * *

"I doubt anyone wants help putting a worm on a hook," Carter said to Rosie as they sat together at a table in the bait shack that afternoon.

Working a brief after school shift in the bait shop, Carter wore the red _Joe's Bait Shack_ cap on her head with her hair tied up in a pony tail. Rosie worked on her homework while Carter helped customers. Whenever there was a lull, she attempted to tutor Carter in French. Carter, however, seemed bent on completing a different homework assignment first, so Rosie had turned to brainstorming on ways to bring out Carter's inner princess.

Rosie tapped on her textbook with a pencil. "Concentrate, Carter. You have much more to offer. You have natural talents and abilities. Use them."

Carter slapped her math book shut with a triumphant smile.

"You are finished?"

"Sure, no sweat," Carter said. "Sorry I can't the say the same about French, but you did volunteer."

Rosie gasped. "Carter, you are brilliant!"

Carter gave Rosie a confused look. She tilted her head. "Why?"

Busily, Rosie gathered up all the books and papers on the table and started slipping them into their backpacks. "We can do it during lunch tomorrow." She hopped to her feet. "Close the shop, Carter! There is much to do. We will need supplies," she babbled excitedly. She grabbed Carter's hand and began down the steps of the bait shop, still listing items. "Pens and extra paper and…"

Thankfully, the shop currently hosted no customers as Carter allowed herself to be pulled across the yard to the cabin. She only caught about a third of what Rosie was saying.

"…and will we be able to use your printer?" asked the enthused princess.

"Sure," Carter agreed, fascinated by whatever plan had Rosie this fired up. "And then, will you tell me why I'm so brilliant?"

Rosie's step faltered on the porch as she suddenly recognized that Carter probably had no idea what she was going on and on about. She swiftly released her grip, ceasing to pull Carter along. "Oh," Rosie said, sheepishly. "I am sorry." After all, this was not the palace where she gave orders to servants which were unquestionably obeyed. "I forgot."

Carter didn't seem mad. This amazing fact in itself caused Rosie immense relief.

Carter removed the red cap from her head and smoothed her hair. She chuckled. "That we're in Louisiana or why I'm brilliant?"

So Rosie explained and Carter found out exactly why she was so brilliant. Working together, _Operation: Two for Tutoring,_ as Carter so aptly dubbed Rosie's plan, was ready to launch by noon the next day.

Rosie surveyed the cafeteria as Ed met up with them. "Were you able to obtain the booths, Edwin?"

"Booths? Ah, no. But I snagged you some tables."

Rosie and Carter began to set up at the tables in the middle of the cafeteria.

"Mind if I film some of this?"

Rosie pondered that thought. "I would prefer you did not."

"But it's great publicity." Ed scratched the back of his head. "Uh…you don't care about publicity, do you?"

Carter and Rosie both shook their heads.

"We care about helping. And some of the students might not care to be filmed when asking for help."

"Gotcha. No cameras."

The homemade signs caught attention right away. Soon, students were lining up at the tables and making appointments for tutoring sessions. Carter offered help in math and science, and Rosie, in languages.

Chelsea Barnes watched from the sidelines and glowered at the two occupied girls stealing her spotlight. _Free tutoring? What would they think of next?

* * *

_

Chelsea would have been even less happy to know that, right after school, Carter and Rosie headed to the local library to volunteer.

Carter couldn't help but be impressed at how at ease Rosie acted with the children or how much the children seemed to be enjoying it. Without even knowing of her princess status, both the little boys and girls hovered around her drawn like bees to nectar. As Rosie read a story, the kids grew quieter and quieter until Rosie's sweet, melodic voice was the only voice that could be heard in the room.

At first, Carter felt content to be in background, silently supporting Rosie's efforts. But when a bright-eyed, dark-haired preschooler thrust a book into her lap, Carter's heart melted. She cracked open the hardcover storybook and read, "Once upon a time there was very hungry caterpillar…"

During a snack break, Carter and Rosie helped pass out the food and drink. Carter watched as Rosie carefully distributed pint-sized paper cups of apple juice. Often, Rosie knelt to level of the children, gladly answering any questions they posed. The children lapped up the attention and each interaction with Rosie ended with huge smiles.

Carter chomped on graham crackers and then whispered to Rosie. "You've done this before, haven't you?"

Rosie smiled at the question, happy to see that Carter was enjoying the experience. "I sometimes visit the orphanages in Costa Luna and read to the children."

Carter's admiration grew. "Wow, those orphans must think that's so cool. With all your other duties, you still have the time for that?"

Rosie nodded. "I make the time."

* * *

**_A/N:_**_ Had to cut this chapter into two. Next part almost finished. Shall try to post it before I go out of town.  
_


	21. Reflections

_**A/N: **__Thanks so much for the amazing comments, critiques, feedback, I find them so helpful!

* * *

_

_Chapter 21: Reflections_

_Peanut butter._

Perhaps it was a sense of nostalgia from hanging out with the kids, but as soon as they reached home, Carter had an intense craving for it.

The silverware drawer clattered as Carter pulled it open and took out a butter knife.

"What are you doing?" Rosie inquired.

Standing by the island counter, Carter pulled out a plate and set the knife on top of it. "I feel like a good ole PB and J." Her stomach rumbled at the thought. There was nothing quite like peanut butter and jelly after a long hot and busy day, especially after having only eaten a few graham crackers since lunch.

Rosie looked puzzled.

"A peanut butter and jelly sandwich?" Carter took the bread from the counter. One dark eyebrow flew upwards. "Don't say it!"

Rosie opened her mouth and closed it again, heeding Carter's warning.

Carter sighed. She supposed that peanut butter and jelly was not the typical food offered by royal chefs to princesses. Still to be sixteen years old and have missed out on something so classic seemed so…sad.

_Thunk._ Carter opened the cupboard and pulled down the peanut butter jar.

Rosie eyed her preparations curiously. "I will try one."

"You're not allergic, are you?" Carter asked, peering into the refrigerator. No jelly, but she did spot a jar of jam. _Jam, jelly. Whatever_. She pulled the jam jar from the refrigerator, unscrewed the lid, and set it next to the peanut butter.

"Allergic?" asked Rosie coming to stand next to Carter and the line of items now parading across the island countertop.

"To peanuts." Carter pointed to the label on the peanut butter jar depicting the nut.

"Oh, c_acahuates_," Rosie comprehended joyfully. "No, I am not."

At that, Carter grabbed a second plate and added slices of bread. She took up the knife once more and dipped it into the peanut butter. "Then, get ready for a treat."

"May I assist you?" Rosie offered.

"Sure. I'll show you how to make yours." Carter passed Rosie another butter knife and slid the plate with bread slices on it in front of her. "Just do what I do. Only with the jelly. Then, we'll switch."

Rosie carefully dipped her knife into the jam.

"It helps if you tilt the jar over the bread," Carter advised as she swiftly spread a thick layer of peanut butter across her bread. "You're going to want an equal peanut butter to jelly ratio, so be careful."

Following the advice, Rosie put jam on her bread and began to spread it. "I thought you did very well today, Carter," Rosie commented as they worked on their sandwich spreads.

"I guess," Carter said, licking off a gob of peanut butter that had adhered to her thumb. "It's just…I can't help but think this whole vote thing was a fluke. Most of the time, people don't like me."

"Perhaps you do not give them the chance." Rosie accepted the peanut butter knife that Carter handed to her. She dropped her own knife into the jam jar and passed it to Carter.

Carter fiddled with the jam jar and slid the sticky substance onto her bread. "I don't have a lot of patience with people. Even people you care about can let you down. And so does everyone else. So, why bother?"

Rosie concentrated on smoothing the peanut butter evenly on her bread slice. The nutty odor wafted into her nostrils. "That's not true, Carter. Not everyone."

Carter studied the halves of her sandwich. "Ninety percent of the time it is."

The kitchen filled with an uncomfortable silence before Rosie broke it. "Not everyone is like your mother."

Carter's lips pressed together in a tight line. She assembled her sandwich, and then stepped over and completed Rosie's, pressing the halves together. "Your father left you."

Rosie shook her head, moving away to leave her knife in the sink. "He died, Carter."

Carter pulled a banana from the fruit bowl and tossed it in the air, catching it. "It's the same thing."

Rosie turned and came back towards the middle of the kitchen. She leaned her palms against the island, looking over her completed sandwich. "No. It is entirely different. It was not his choice."

"Oh. But it was _her_ choice." Carter sliced the unpeeled banana in half quickly.

"We do not know the circumstances that created—"

Carter huffed, tossing the halved banana onto their plates. "Stop trying to cheer me up."

Rosie pursed her lips. She knew anything having to do with Carter's mother continued to be a sensitive issue. And Carter was quite capable of sparking an argument if only to avoid delving further into the once taboo topic.

Unwilling to be reeled into an argument, Rosie didn't take the bait.

This led to silence.

Dark brown eyes stared at the princess for a moment. "Well, are you gonna try it?"

"Oh yes, of course." Rosie quickly took up her sandwich and took a huge bite. Unfortunately, peanut butter adhered to the roof of her mouth and it felt like her mouth had been glued shut. She breathed in frantically through her nose. She tried to chew and started to gag.

"Whoa!" Carter rushed to the refrigerator, pulled out a milk carton, and ran back to Rosie. She pressed open the carton and thrust it towards Rosie's face. "Here, here. Wash it down."

Rosie looked on the brink of refusing causing Carter to let out an exasperated sigh. "It's a new carton!"

Standing beside her, Carter lifted the carton to Rosie's lips and watched her sip slowly.

Closing her eyes, Rosie felt the food in her mouth soften. She gulped, and then managed to swallow. She pulled her mouth away from the milk carton, coughed several times and then began to breathe easier.

Carter laid the carton aside on the hard countertop. She leaned forward, patting the other girl's back rapidly with one hand. "Rosie, you okay? Rosie?"

Rosie took a deep breath. Her eyes were still closed and Carter couldn't read the expression on her face.

Rosie spoke at last. "This is…"

"What?" Carter asked breathlessly, relieved to hear Rosie speaking coherently.

Eyes flew open and cheeks dimpled as Rosie grinned. "Wonderful," Rosie finished, staring at the sandwich in her hands. She appeared completely unconcerned that she had nearly choked as she took another, albeit smaller, bite.

Carter threw up her hands. "It's so not wonderful. You were choking!"

Rosie raised an eyebrow, still grinning. "I am fine now. I did not mean to bother you." She climbed into a chair and proceeded to eat with gusto.

Carter sat too. "You didn't bother me. You scared me…I thought…I don't know." She bit into her sandwich and chewed furiously.

"You cared enough to do something. The same way you did when Chelsea tricked me in the yogurt shop. And with the raccoon and the way you fixed my blanket when you believed I was asleep."

Carter shifted in her chair uneasily. She blinked. "You were awake?"

Rosie nodded blissfully, swallowing her latest bite before she spoke. "I am sorry about what your mother did, Carter. I cannot change that. Neither can you. What you can change, Carter, is what you do right now. You can be different. Give people a chance. They may surprise you."

"I just don't want to get hurt anymore."

"Sometimes there are things we must hide," Rosie said with a thoughtful look. "But I believe we should never hide that we care. Hiding means nobody will be able to get to know who we truly are. Is that what you want, Carter?"

"I'm not hiding." Carter sat up a little straighter. "But I don't feel the overwhelming need to go around wearing my heart on my sleeve either."

Rosie smiled warmly. "I think you have a good heart, Carter Mason. You need to show it more often. Would you please try?"

Carter took another bite, this time savoring the nutty flavor as it mingled with the sweet jam and bread on her tongue. She wasn't sure when it happened, but suddenly Rosie's opinion of her mattered a lot. "Yes." Carter breathed out with a nod, conceding defeat. "I'll try."

* * *

Carter Mason was wearing a dress.

And not just any dress. A strapless vintage dress made of some lacy white and blue material with decorative ruffles and a sash which even shimmered a little. It had taken a couple of hours to pick out after Rosie had surprised Carter by thrusting a pile of dresses into her arms at the thrift shop the two girls had visited this afternoon. While donating a box filled with clothes, old toys, and a small lamp that Carter hadn't used in ages, Rosie had bonded instantly with the elderly shop lady wearing a soft shade of pink. The lady in pink had been so pleased to see young people wanting to help in their community that she offered them a discount on anything in the store.

Before Carter knew what had happened, she had been drawn into a giving a mini fashion show, marching outside along the makeshift runway in dress after dress as Rosie and an elderly group of ladies critiqued the outfits. Their comments were all along the lines of "Too old for a young thing", "Too Audrey Hepburn" or "Too Queen of England."

The dress Carter wore now had been the winning number.

Then, Carter had thought it only fitting that Rosie endured a similar ordeal. Finding a dress that suited Rosie proved to be much easier; the princess settled on a white with straps. And, by the end of all, Carter found herself high-fiving their impromptu audience of elderly fashion critics and thoroughly enjoying every minute of what had begun as a kind of awkward torture.

So here they were at home, both still wearing their dresses, as Rosie watched Carter attempt to promenade regally about their bedroom.

It was all Rosie could do not to laugh out loud as she watched Carter wobble, trying to balance a book on her head.

Focused on her goal, Carter didn't notice the silent laughter.

"You're just so good with everybody," Carter told Rosie. "Kids, old people, you're probably even good with dogs." Carter had always wanted a dog, but had never been able to get her dad to warm to the idea. He'd been chased too many times by these animals in the line of duty.

Rosie sat comfortably upon the window seat. "That is true," she said simply.

The activities they'd participated in together throughout the week were not the things Carter had ever thought a princess kept in mind. "You're so much more generous than I thought you'd be."

"It is a princess' job to help people."

In all the fairy tales, there was always something important omitted between the once upon a times and the happily ever afters: Being a princess was a real job. "I guess I never really thought about what it really means to be a princess," Carter admitted gravely. Years of watching her father go on missions to rescue princesses had left Carter with the images of damsels in distress. But being a princess involved so much more because princesses had a mind-boggling plethora of duties to perform and some, as in Rosie's case, had to take the reins of an entire kingdom.

They had to be strong leaders. They had to study hard to make wise decisions. And apparently, they had to balance books on their head in order to have good posture which would make them look like wise and strong leaders.

Carter's book almost toppled and Carter paused to readjust it, before returning to pacing once more.

Rosie giggled quietly watching Carter's movements. She removed the book she was balancing on her own head and stood up.

Carter paced back and forth, struggling to keep from tilting and losing her literary load. "Like this. I can't believe you actually have to do this."

Carrying her book, Rosie stepped into the teen's path as Carter turned back to cross the room once more. Rosie tossed the book aside onto her bed. Her brown eyes sparkled with mirth. "Oh, no, you don't."

Confounded, Carter gave Rosie a questioning look. The confused teen lowered her book. "Wait, then, why am I doing it?"

Rosie's face split into a huge grin and laughter spilled out. Carter had been taking everything about these princess lessons so seriously. When Rosie had teasingly suggested the book, Carter had been uncharacteristically gullible. Rosie had wondered how far the American girl would go without questioning it. "Because, it is funny," Rosie said gleefully.

Suddenly, Carter realized she'd been the brunt of a joke. "What?" Carter held back laughter of her own. She felt pleasantly surprised that Rosie, of all people, had been able to fool her. Mischievously, Carter twisted her face into a pseudo frown. "I hate you."

"You do?" Rosie's eyes widened and her mouth fell open in shock.

Carter laughed at the look on Rosie's face. "No, no, no, no," she quickly explained. Her voice grew sincere. "I didn't mean, 'I hate you, I hate you.' I meant," Carter paused as her heart swelled with emotion, "'I hate you' like, you're my best friend." One of the brightest smiles Carter had ever seen flashed her way and Carter didn't regret her heartfelt words for a second. Of all the people she'd ever met, no one else compared to Rosie.

Rosie breathed a sigh of relief. 'I hate you' didn't mean _I hate you_. Carter had been playing a game and 'I hate you' meant the opposite. "Well," said Rosie, drawing her shoulders back regally. She tried to make her voice sound convincing, because she wasn't used to saying the opposite of what she meant. Yet, more than anything else at the moment, she wanted to be best friends with Carter. Rosie tried to look serious. "I hate you too. And that dress is ugly."

"It is?" Carter asked, worriedly looking down at her dress.

Rosie immediately dropped her act with a small laugh. She wasn't good at this game of opposites. In future, she'd leave such things to Carter. She gently placed her hands on Carter's shoulders, getting her to look up. "_No_, it is beautiful. And so are you. Look." Rosie turned Carter around to face the mirror and moved her towards it. "You are becoming a princess on the inside." Rosie gently placed the tiara on top of Carter's head, crowning her. "And now, you look like one too."

Carter stared at the reflections shining in the glass as matching smiles grew on their faces and the entire world seemed brighter. Rosie had just called her beautiful. And Rosie wouldn't say it if she didn't mean it, so Carter had no choice but to believe it.

_I'm beautiful_, Carter thought. _Just like a princess._

She felt an overwhelming rush of joy.

_I'm a princess!_


	22. Shaken

_Chapter 22: Shaken_

Carter was too busy working by the water to notice their presence, but her sharp-eyed dad spotted the visitors immediately. "Hey girls," Mason greeted Chelsea and Brooke, wondering why they were watching his daughter from afar.

Chelsea put on an award-winning smile. "Hi, Mister Mason. Is Rosie home?"

"Maybe," Mason replied suspiciously. He shifted his weight, adjusting the net he was carrying. It was odd to have Chelsea and Brooke drop by to visit with Carter; it was even odder that they wanted to visit with Rosie. He wondered why they had been spying on Carter. "What's up?"

"Up?" Chelsea repeated. "Well, we're planning a little princess surprise for Carter. To congratulate her."

Mason had been happy to learn that Carter and Rosie had been nominated for homecoming queen right along with Chelsea. He couldn't be prouder of his little girl.

Brooke nodded, quickly backing Chelsea's story. "Yeah, it was Rosie's idea."

Their answer explained why he had found them spying on Carter. Mason nodded and began to smile. A huge believer in letting bygones be bygones, Mason chose to give the girls the benefit of the doubt. Besides, planning a surprise for Carter sounded exactly like something Rosie would do. "She's in her room. Go on in."

* * *

Rosie had chosen to wear pink again today. The trip to the thrift store and the opportunity to try on all those lovely clothes had built her anticipation. Rosie had found a cotton green top with pink flowers and paired it with this pink jacket and a pair of jeans. She missed dressing formally and she couldn't wait to wear the white dress to homecoming.

Major Mason was right to be cautious. A princess may be away from her country and living under the guise of an American girl, but the years of grooming for the throne can never be put away completely. The social etiquette and the royal mannerisms become ingrained and as involuntary as breathing. And Rosie wasn't thinking about the fact that she was a princess in hiding as she stood looking in the mirror. She was looking forward to seeing homecoming firsthand and she was as excited about the dance as any sixteen-year old girl could be.

More even.

So when figures appeared at the doorway of the bedroom, she felt no alarm. Then, a voice called, "_Podemos entrar, Princesa Rosalinda_?"

Rosie's carefree smile didn't disappear immediately at the question she had heard almost everyday of her royal life. Instead, she replied instantly. "_Si, entren por favor_." It was only after the words had passed her lips that her smile fled.

That voice had belonged to Brooke.

Rosie's thoughts were ripped away from the upcoming dance and her heart thudded in her chest as she become aware that her true identity had been uncovered. Her fingers went limp and she lowered the white dress she'd been holding up as she stood at the mirror. She turned to face the intruders that held such dangerous information over her head.

_What did they want?_

Chelsea and Brooke stood smugly in the doorway. Chelsea's eyes were narrowed into two dark slits as she said sneeringly, "I've never heard of Costa Luna. Have you, Brookie?"

The redhead shook her head, playing along. "No, Chels."

The girls stood in the doorway as if to block off any means of escape.

Rosie very much wanted to escape. "I do not know what you are talking about," Rosie said in as firm a voice as she could muster. She folded her dress and hugged it to her chest.

_They couldn't know. How could they know? How much could they know?_

Brooke came into the room, crossing her arms and looking accusingly at her. "We know all about you and your mother…and the paper bag."

Rosie frowned in confusion. "What?"

Brooke tilted her head with a smug look.

Chelsea cleared her throat and stepped in front of Brooke. "Poor Princess Rosalinda. Did you hear she's in hiding?" Chelsea waved a magazine and Rosie gasped as the image of her own face and her mother's stared back at her from a color photo.

Rosie reached out with one hand and pulled the magazine from Chelsea's grasp. She stared at the photo that pictured her wearing a crown. The caption read: _**Princesa Rosalinda de Costa Luna y la Reina Sophia**_. Irrefutable proof of her identity even if the girls hadn't been able to comprehend the accompanying article. The princess could not see a way to deny clear evidence like this.

Chelsea flashed a set of white teeth in response, happy to relinquish the magazine. That was just the reaction she had been waiting to see. She'd been a little worried over Brooke's sketchy translation of the article when the girl had first brought it to her attention, especially when Brooke had admitted she didn't know whether it referred to a prison or a paper bag, but it didn't matter now. Chelsea watched Rosie squirm and whatever the article said, it was enough. Time for the fun to begin.

"You do not understand," Rosie said, wishing Carter was by her side. Unfortunately, Carter was still outside working dutifully with the traps at the pier. Rosie knew how mean-spirited these girls could be, but maybe if they understood the importance of keeping this a secret.

Chelsea's unfriendly smile only grew wider. "I understand that you lied to us."

Rosie almost wanted to cry. She couldn't pretend to be ordinary anymore, because so much hung in the balance. So much could be destroyed. "Only to protect my mother."

"From the paper bag?" Brooke questioned as if she had discovered something of great import.

Chelsea glanced at Brooke, looking mildly annoyed.

Rosie didn't understand Brooke's weird references to the paper bag, but it didn't matter. There were greater things at stake. Rosie shook her head. "No," she replied desperately. "Look, I will give you a reward for keeping my secret."

"Oh, we know you will," Chelsea replied confidently.

"You do?" asked Rosie with surprise.

"And we already have it picked out."

The cold and calculating tone in Chelsea's voice made Rosie feel chilled. "I don't understand."

"Yeah, me either," Brooke chimed in, looking as flummoxed as Rosie felt.

Chelsea rolled her eyes at Brooke's comment but kept her focus on Rosie. "You're going to turn in your crown, Princess. You're going to tell everyone that there is, and only ever will be, one true homecoming queen, and that's me."

"That's good," Brooke said in a hushed tone of admiration.

Rosie grimaced as she comprehended Chelsea's demand._ That's what this was about?_

"Fine," the princess agreed. She felt sick. "You may take my crown." Brown eyes snapped as fear transformed into anger. Chelsea threatened her, her mother, the very fate of her country and all this popular girl could think about was winning homecoming queen. This definitely topped the duplicity in the yogurt shop. Rosie hadn't seen such petty selfishness, lust for power, and utter disregard for others since…since General Kane had taken over her country.

Chelsea smirked triumphantly, but Rosie hadn't finished speaking. "But you may not take Carter's," Rosie said protectively. She narrowed her eyes at her opponent. Personally, Rosie felt that Carter could win the homecoming race, but she hoped that Chelsea would continue to underestimate Carter's capabilities. "She is no threat to you, Chelsea."

"Fine," Chelsea agreed snidely, savoring her power. She leaned forward and plucked Rosie's dress out of her hands. "Let Bait Girl play princess for one night. She just won't look like one." Chelsea scanned the room and then swiftly grabbed Carter's shimmery blue and white dress from where it lay nearby. Without another word, she glided out of the door carrying the dresses and Brooke followed.

Rosie didn't even bother to watch them go.

Her knees felt weak. Her head was spinning. She took a few shuffling steps and sank into the window seat as the bravado she had shown Chelsea melted away.

She had bigger evils to worry about. Her eyes fixed upon the magazine article and the large words beneath the captioned picture, announcing the engagement and impending nuptials of her mother to General Magnus Kane of Costa Estrella.

The future looked very bleak indeed.

* * *

Carter hummed as she concentrated on her work. She felt peaceful and calm like the surface of her beloved lake. Even Ed hadn't shown up to bug her. The young filmmaker was spending time editing the footage of his documentary. Work went surprisingly faster when you weren't bumping into a camera every few minutes, Carter reflected.

It was a grimy job, but somebody had to do it. Still, Carter was glad she'd chosen to wear gloves for this task. She was certain princesses didn't get dirt under their fingernails. Her bright yellow wading boots dripped water onto the dock as Carter carefully balanced a bucket in each hand, striving to keep water from sloshing over the sides. She turned to walk over the place where she could empty her buckets.

That's when she heard the honk. She looked up and spotted the car.

Brooke's car was pulling away from the cabin. The top was down and Brooke was at the wheel.

Carter drew nearer, noting Chelsea in the front passenger seat. Chelsea smirked as the car drove by and threw something into the air.

Carter saw clothing sail from the car, deliberately tossed towards a muddy patch of gravel. "Have fun at the dance!" Chelsea called out.

As Carter heard the girls' laughter, a familiar shade of blue caught her eye.

_The dresses. No. Oh no!_

The buckets hit the dock, spilling their contents as Carter sprinted over to the puddle, and tried to rescue their homecoming dresses from the mud bath. She pulled the dresses out, but it was already too late. Mud and gritty dirt soiled the delicate fabric. There was no chance to save it.

* * *

Carter marched into the bedroom, holding up the ruined formal wear. She no longer wore the gloves and the wet boots had been left outside to dry in the sun. "Look what Chelsea and Brooke," Carter began and then trailed off at the sight before her.

The warm sunlight filtering through the window illuminated the princess. Rosie sat hunched in the window seat, cradling an open magazine in her lap. She remained as still as a waxen figure and her face looked even paler.

"What's wrong?" Carter asked.

"I have to leave, Carter," Rosie announced grimly.

"Leave?" Carter questioned, tossing the soiled garments aside, forgotten now as concern and confusion overtook her. "Leave where?"

"Back to my country," the crowned princess of Costa Luna explained in a tone of total defeat.

Carter still didn't get it, but she saw Rosie staring fixedly at the magazine page. She slowly walked over and sat beside her friend, pulling the magazine out of Rosie's lap.

Carter glanced at the photo of Rosie and her mother. Then, she looked at the photo on the next page of a man in a decorated brown uniform wearing a dark hat. The infamous Kane that Rosie had told her about. There was something very unpleasant about his smile.

Rosie sighed, trying to further explain her decision. "General Kane is forcing my mother into marriage."

"Yeah, but you don't think she'd really marry the guy?"

Rosie shook her head. "My mother will fight it. But I fear what will happen to her when she disagrees. If she disagrees and I am not there…Even if I am restored to throne, it will not be worth the cost of my mother's life."

"So we'll talk to my dad. We'll—"

"Tell me the truth, Carter. Your father is a good agent. Do you honestly think he does not know about this?"

Carter remained silent. Thinking about it now, her father hadn't mentioned anything about Rosie's home for the past day or so and had been extra busy in the bait shop.

"Your father would not promise me he would save my mother."

Carter frowned. "As stupid it as it sounds, he's only doing his job. If he went, Rosie, he would be risking his life for-"

"For my mother." Rosie's brown eyes grew sadder. "I am sorry, Carter. Your family has been very kind, but this is something that I must do."

"It's not just that, Rosie. He would be risking his career if he went against PPP orders. He wouldn't have any backup. For all we know, they both could die trying to escape." Even though Carter knew the reasons were valid, the words rang hollow in her own ears. If she had worked for a top secret agency, she certainly would be sitting around waiting for General Kane to do something illegal enough to remove him. Wasn't invading another country reason enough?

Carter dropped the magazine and gave Rosie a sympathetic look. "My father's never gonna let you go back."

"He'll never know," Rosie replied determinedly.

"Yeah, but _I_ know," Carter countered. "And I'm not gonna let you go back, either."

"Carter, you have to stay out of this," Rosie insisted. "I have a duty to my people. And this is something that you'll never understand." Her voice grew softer. "I've loved living here in Louisiana. And I wish my life could be like this every day. But this is not reality." Rosie's voice broke as tears welled up in her eyes. She took a deep breath and continued. "I mean, you think my life as a princess is some fairy tale? This here is a fairy tale! And I cannot hide here anymore. Soon I will be queen of Costa Luna. My country needs me."

Carter thought hard for a moment. She had never won an argument with Rosie and at this moment, it was crucial that she didn't lose. So Carter switched to a new tactic. "You're right. They do need you."

The unexpected words threw Rosie off completely. She turned to Carter, listening.

Carter spoke carefully, earnestness slipping into her words. "They need you to lead them, and to protect them." Dark brown eyes glittered as her jaw line hardened. "And that's something you can't do from jail which is exactly where you'll end up if you go back to Costa Luna," Carter concluded, bluntly.

Rosie sobbed and sprang off the window seat as if Carter's words had whipped her in the face. She walked daintily from the room without uttering a single word, trying to hold back her tears but failing miserably. Carter shook her head in amazement. Rosie was probably the only person in the world who could make storming out of a room look graceful.

Carter let her go. She had been hoping her words had hit home, but the tears streaming down Rosie's face told a different story. Rosie wasn't going to change her mind about leaving. The risks were very great indeed if Rosie returned to Costa Luna without the agency's protection. If Rosie returned to her country now, she might even die. Carter clenched her fists in her lap, speaking her promise aloud as if that alone would make the words come true. "No way am I letting this happen."

_It's what you do and the reason why you do it. _Rosie's words echoed in her head. Carter got to her feet with a strong sense of purpose and a plan began to form in her mind. She crept out into the hallway. Her dad wasn't in his room and Carter made a beeline for it.

She had to do something and do it fast. And it had to be something amazing.

Something that would save everything.

Before it was too late.


	23. Best Laid Plans

**_A/N:_** _Just realized that this story is the longest one in the archive and its not finished yet, so this _really_ will be epic. If you are still reading/reviewing this, such loyalty shall be rewarded. Ever wonder how Rosie intended to get back to Costa Luna? Enjoy your update:)

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_Chapter 23: Best Laid Plans  
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She hoped this wasn't a mistake.

It had taken no time at all for her to find the key in her father's dresser drawer—the one he always left there for her-and unlock the wood panel in the floor of the closet. From there it was a simple matter to remember the combination to the safe located there and search through the emergency stash Major Mason kept concealed.

She swiftly found what she sought, hastily put everything back in its proper place, and ran back to her room.

Sitting on her bed with the door closed, Carter clutched her father's private phone in her hands. In the event of an emergency, she was supposed to use it to contact the director of the PPP. This felt like an emergency, but Carter had decided to make an international call of a different sort.

* * *

**_Royal Palace_**

**_The Kingdom of Costa Luna_**

The royal dressmaker looked around quickly as his cell phone buzzed. Tensions ran high in Costa Luna, especially within the palace walls, and receiving suspicious phone calls might land one a night in the dungeon—an experience he did not wish to repeat, having already received such punishment from resisting when Kane had first entered the picture. He had struggled against the traitorous Dimitri and watched with glee as Rosalinda had made her escape. Fortunately for Elegante, General Kane was more concerned with having perfectly tailored suits to show off before the cameras, Elegante's reputation was known across the island nation, and he had been released the next day.

Elegante pulled the phone from his inside jacket pocket, glancing at it once before pulling it to his ear. The exact details of the incoming number had been blocked, but it originated from the United States. "_Hola_, this is Elegante," he said cautiously. "Who is this?"

"That doesn't matter. All that matters is I'm a friend of Princess Rosalinda and she's about to make a very big mistake."

The voice of the girl on the other end of the connection sounded young and American. His eyes darted about watching for anyone who might be close enough to overhear his conversation. "My _princesa_. What mistake it this?"

"She wants to come home," the voice informed him direly.

Mister Elegante shook his head at this piece of information.

General Kane talked of little else than Princess Rosalinda's return to Costa Luna. Kane's ego had not taken kindly to her escape. It wasn't enough for Kane to assume leadership of the country. He wanted the royal family to grovel before him. Queen Sophia had been confined to a cell in the dungeon as Kane tried to break her spirit, but her friends at the palace occasionally smuggled in amenities to make her stay there more tolerable.

Elegante reached out and wrapped an arm around a pillar as he steadied his thin frame, trying to not draw attention to his anxious state. He wanted to scream, for he knew how stubborn the princess could be once she had set her heart on something. "No, no, no, no, no. She must not do that!" Elegante forced himself to continue walking at a slow pace. "_Es demasiado peligroso_. It's too dangerous."

"I know." Carter breathed out in relief. She knew Rosie said she trusted Elegante, but Carter hadn't been absolutely sure of the royal dress designer until this moment. The level of dismay she heard over the line could not be fake. No friend of Rosie's wanted her to return to Costa Luna until her safety could be assured. And Rosie couldn't be safe, not as long as Kane remained in control of the country.

This fact had sparked Carter's idea, but she needed Elegante to make it work. "But I have a plan," Carter continued. "I'm gonna need you to listen very carefully."

Elegante lowered his voice as he watched one of Kane's men stroll past. "I will do anything for the Princesa. _Anything_."

That sentiment put them on the exact same wavelength and Carter smiled softly. A good plan relied upon the strengths of its participants, so her first request had to do with what Costa Luna's foremost dressmaker did best.

* * *

"Ed?" Carter walked into the kitchen after her conversation with Elegante and was startled to find the tall boy standing there. "Didn't expect to see you today. What's up?"

Ed wore a hunter green shirt and dark jeans. He swiped a hand through his hair and smiled. "I wanted to talk with you. Rosie said you were in here."

"Oh, okay." Her father's phone weighed heavily in her hand and since there was a chance her parental figure could walk in anytime, Carter thought it best to put it away before any questions could be raised. She would hate to have her plan derailed before she even had the chance to lay the tracks. "Well, have something to drink. I gotta do something real quick. Back in a sec."

"Okay." Ed nodded and then walked over to the refrigerator. He grabbed a can of coke from its interior. He had already taken several gulps when Carter returned.

Carter stood at the counter across from where he sat. Ed looked strangely serious. "So?" she asked. "How's the movie coming?"

"Good. It's good." Ed slid his fingers around his can. "Carter, can I…can I ask you something?"

Carter shrugged. "Okay."

Ed opened his mouth, but no words came out. He drained his can, swallowing noisily, and then slapped it down on the counter. "You know, you can tell me anything right?"

Lines appeared on Carter's forehead. She leaned against her elbows on the counter. "Why are you being so weird?"

Ed laughed nervously. "I'm not being weird. I just wanna know, is your family strapped for cash?"

Carter raised an eyebrow. "Uh, no. No, why do you ask?"

"It's just, I talked to Rosie just now," Ed gushed out. "Carter, I thought you and your cousin were getting along now."

"We are," Carter whispered in complete bewilderment.

'Then, why is she leaving?"

"She told you she was leaving?" Carter asked in amazement. _Wow, Rosie sure doesn't waste any time._

Ed nodded with a frown. "I mean, I don't mind lending her the money. She promised to pay me back. She knows how badly I want that car."

"What?" Carter crossed her arms, trying to figure out what Ed was talking about. "What money?"

"For the plane ticket to Iowa. She said you knew she was going, but she made me promise not to tell your dad."

"Oh, oh, yes." Carter snapped her fingers. She felt like she had caught up now. For once, she wished Rosie wasn't quite so resourceful. "It's kinda a surprise that she's going home. Wouldn't want anything to spoil it."

Ed looked at her. "So everything's really okay?"

"Yes. Rosie's just a little homesick." Carter quickly put on smile. "No worries. It's fine, Ed."

"Okay." Ed smiled back. "Good." Ed stood up, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "You know, it's funny. I know you hated your cousin when she first came around, but lately it's been kind of nice."

"What? I didn't hate her—Okay, well, I don't hate her." He'd lost her again. "What's been nice?"

Ed fidgeted. "You've been nicer since Rosie's been here. Not so shut off."

Carter pretended to be mad. "You think I'm shut off?"

Ed panicked. "No. No! Not anymore. I think you're both pretty cool."

"I'll be sure to tell Rosie you said that," Carter replied with a mischievous grin. It was always fun to push Ed's buttons. Then, her thoughts traveled elsewhere and the grin slipped away. She felt anxious to talk to Rosie. She pushed herself up from the counter and glanced at the door. "Where is she?"

"Rosie? Oh, she's at the dock."

Carter made a movement towards the door, then stopped. "Anything else, Ed?"

Ed stretched his arms over his head. "Actually, yeah. I was wondering if you still...um...want to go to the dance with Donny?"

Carter gratefully remembered Rosie had never told Ed about the whole Donny thing. "Uh no, I'm not."

Ed lowered his arms, surprised. "You don't? You're not?"

Carter shook her head. "No. I've already got my own plans."

"You do?"

_Hopefully, if all goes well_. "Yes. Why?" Carter questioned.

"Nothing, I…" Ed trailed off awkwardly.

_Sometimes boys are so strange_. "Okay. Um, and thanks for offering to help Rosie."

"No problem." Ed turned to go and then turned back again. "Carter, I wanted to tell you."

"Tell me what?"

"I want you to...to have fun at the dance."

"Okay." Carter had the fleeting feeling that Ed had intended to say something else. She didn't have time to think about it. "Thanks." She nodded dismissively. "We'll see you there."

Ed waved and went out the door. "Yeah. See ya."

Carter followed him out through the porch, then slipped back into her yellow boots.

She had to talk to Rosie.


	24. To Believe

_**A/N: **Just when I start to think the interest in this story has waned, I get a comment. So here's an update for you.:)_

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_Chapter 24: __To Believe_

She felt guilty.

Her resolve to return to Costa Luna was strong, but at the moment all she could think about was what she would be leaving behind. For better or worse, she would soon be returning to life as Princess Rosalinda and all that it entailed. Her life in Louisiana would become nothing but a dear and distant memory.

Leaning against one of the wooden posts of the pier, she basked in the warmth of the sun as the breeze batted at her copper brown hair.

Tranquility wrapped itself around her like a blanket, and yet the lake below her feet teemed with life. Silvery gray minnows glinted in the shallow water flowing underneath the dock. Dragonflies buzzed in the tall grass nearby and frogs could be heard croaking off in the distance. Sometimes a loud splash or quack punctuated the air as a family of ducks paddled by.

She tried to soak it all in order to take a mental snapshot she could carry with her. She watched the ripples in the water distorting the reflection of the puffy white clouds floating across sky. Finally, she closed her eyes and recalled the sights and sounds that had grown familiar to her in such a short time. The silhouettes of fisherman in their boats. The magnificent sunsets over the water. The bustle of the customers at the bait shop early in the morning.

She had grown fond of being Rosie.

It was hard to think that she would lose all of it. She had started to adjust to this life of anonymity. Every step she took wasn't followed and photographed. Every decision she made wasn't being scrutinized. Every moment of the day was not scheduled and planned out weeks in advance. At first the change felt as petrifying as walking a tight rope without a safety net. Now, she had found her rhythm and stride and struck the perfect balance in this new life.

But she could never have done it alone. She had overcome her fear and succeeded in maintaining this delicate balance solely because, whenever she slipped, she knew Carter wouldn't let her fall.

Wooden planks vibrated lightly as boots tromped across their surface. Rosie opened her eyes at the approach, but didn't turn to look. She blinked rapidly as the wind whipped her loose hair across her face.

Heedless of the increasing gusts of wind, the Lake Monroe teen came to rest against the post opposite Rosie. Aware of the weather, the bait shop girl had her dark hair tied up into a pony tail. It flapped in the wind behind her.

Rosie watched the choppy little waves the wind made on the water.

Carter stared at her, eyes wide and uncertain, and the teen's voice came out in a hushed tone. "You okay?"

Instantly, Rosie understood why Carter appeared so tense. She probably wasn't even certain they were on speaking terms after their last encounter. Rosie felt a pang that she had caused her friend distress, even for a moment, and hastened to let Carter know what was on her mind. The princess sighed heartily. "I'm going to miss this place," she replied sadly. Articulating the words brought to the forefront another worry that Rosie had been combating. There was a small catch in her voice as she said, "I'm going to miss you, Carter."

As this confession left Rosie's lips, Carter relaxed and a warm smile lit up her entire face. She chuckled softly and Rosie could imagine that Carter was remembering the first time they had met. So much had changed since then. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm going to miss you, too."

Warm brown eyes twinkled as Rosie's mouth twisted into a tender smile. The smile crept across her face and warmth seeped through her spine until she felt like she was glowing on the inside and out.

It was an amazing and wonderful feeling to know that someone cared about her as a person and not as a princess. Rosie couldn't find the words to do it justice. So she simply smiled wider and her gaze met Carter's as she tried to communicate a small fraction of the feeling.

They shared a smile until Carter dropped it. Carter's eyes skipped down to the water and her expression changed to a contemplative look. Rosie wondered what had crossed her mind. She didn't have to wait long to find out.

Carter tilted her head, keeping her hands behind her as she leaned back. "I spoke with Ed. He said you asked him for money."

Rosie pursed her lips. "If I had requested funds through official channels your father would be alerted. Was it improper of me to ask Ed for the loan?"

"No, it's not."

Rosie nodded, glad she hadn't violated social etiquette. She looked at Carter. "What did he want?"

Carter shrugged. "I don't know. He was being very Ed." She stared at the water, before looking back at Rosie. "When are you going?"

Rosie hadn't thought that far ahead yet. "Soon."

Carter nodded and paused for a moment. Then, her voice took on a pleading note. "Rosie, can you do me a big favor before you go?"

Rosie perked up and didn't even wait to hear Carter's request before she readily agreed. Her voice almost sang. "_Anything._"

"You said it is a princess' job to help people," Carter began.

Rosie nodded, looking at Carter seriously. "It is."

"Well, the dance is on Friday night and there's some people I want to help. I want to make this night special for them, for all of us," Carter added. "Will you please stay until then? For them, please?"

Pleased with the thought, Rosie's lips parted into a beautiful smile. Costa Luna needed her, but she would be delighted to do this one last deed for Carter's sake. She would be able to participate in homecoming after all. "What did you have in mind?"

* * *

_**The Kingdom of Costa Luna**_

_**Royal Palace**_

Elegante rushed through the halls of the palace until he came into the chamber that housed his workshop. His father had been the royal designer before him and Elegante had learned the trade since he was a young boy. Elegante pulled out a slip of paper with the measurements from his sleeve and studied it briefly. He picked up his sewing materials and with nimble fingers flying across fabric, he got to work.

Several hours later an unceremonious knock came on his door before it was flung open. The former head of the royal guard and current second to General Kane poked his head in the door.

Elegante eyed him warily. Dimitri was the one who had let General Kane waltz in during the practice coronation and Elegante would not soon forget it. Hiding his disdain, he cleared his throat and offered a small smile that did not reach his eyes. "Estoy ocupado. What is it?"

"The General wishes to try more of the royal wardrobe, but the main chamber is locked."

Elegante wondered why Dimitri had come to him with this problem. "I do not have the key. Only the Queen knows where it is."

"She refuses to tell us where the key is. She says she would rather be dead than see him wearing her husband's clothes. I am on my way to relay this message to the general now. I hoped you would offer a better solution, señor."

Elegante realized that Dimitri was not exaggerating. That sounded like Queen Sophia.

Unfortunately, Elegante had seen that the general could be as impatient as a spoiled child and also as prone to violent tantrums. Elegante perceived this was the real reason Dimitri had come to his door. The guard did not want to be the bearer of bad news and face the wrath of General Kane.

While Elegante was not inclined to help Dimitri, there was not telling how the general might react to not getting his way. He stood up, springing upon the unique opportunity this dilemma had caused. "You must allow me to speak with the queen."

Dimitri looked hesitant and then he nodded. "If the general agrees, I will allow it. But what should I tell the general?"

"Tell him not to worry. I will do my best to make sure that he will have everything he deserves."

Satisfied with this answer, Dimitri departed without so much as a thank you. The door slammed shut, rattling the room.

Ingrate, Elegante thought.

Elegante took a moment to study his work, eyeing the intricate details of the embroidery and stitching. He admired his work. A pale shade of pink and a lovely Caribbean blue. He had outdone himself. It was good that he always he had creations in progress or it was doubtful he would have finished the job in time. But Rosalinda's friend had been insistent that the two dresses were necessary for the plan to work. Besides, he would never let his young friend attend a dance without being properly attired.

Now, all he had to do was convince General Kane he was an even greater traitor than Dimitri.

* * *

_**Lake Monroe, Louisiana**_

_**Lake Monroe High**_

Rosie couldn't be prouder of Carter.

Whereas in previous ventures Rosie sometimes literally lead Carter by the hand, this no longer proved to be the case. Carter had taken a strong lead, taking the initiative to speak with the people she wanted to help while Rosie remained in the background. Carter had even met with classmates at the yogurt shop and gone to other local hangouts to drum up support for this endeavor.

Rosie stood by her friend as Carter approached her next subject, a member of the homecoming dance committee, purportedly said to be one of Chelsea's unwilling followers.

"Hello?" Carter called out to the brown-haired girl standing on the ladder who appeared to be struggling with decorations.

"Oh, hi Carter. Hi, Rosie. I don't know if you know me. I'm Margaret," the girl said brightly. She pressed her dark-rimmed glasses up as they slid down her nose.

"Hey, do you need some help?" asked Carter.

Margaret almost looked shocked by the offer. "I would love some. Chelsea wants a follow spot, so now I have to make sure all these shiny circle decorations don't cause a glare on the stage."

Rosie held the ladder steady as Carter handed the decorations up to Margaret.

Carter glanced around the gym. "It seems to me that Chelsea made a whole lot of extra work for you, but I don't see her here helping you with it."

"Chelsea's obsessed with becoming queen. She doesn't have time for any of this," Margaret explained.

"So you do it for her?"

"It's what she expects. And if I don't do it, she might..."

"Make your life miserable."

Margaret nodded with a pained expression.

"Aren't you tired of it?" Carter asked.

"She doesn't really listen to me," Margaret complained. "And she never helps out…even with stuff that's all her idea."

"If she does not wish to help, then, she does not deserve to be a princess," Rosie interjected.

Carter nodded at Rosie and handed up the last decoration. "That's why we're here. Homecoming belongs to the whole school, not just people like Chelsea. This night should be about all of us. And a very good friend of mine once showed me, with a little help, anyone can be a princess. So if you'd like to get the royal treatment, you're all invited to my house before the dance. So tell everyone that's Chelsea's ever put down, pulled a prank on, or treated like a loser. The night of the dance, we're all going as princesses."

Margaret looked a little uncertain. "But what if I don't know how to be a princess?"

Carter glanced over at Rosie with a fond grin. "That's what lessons are for."

"Okay." Margaret smiled wide. "I'll be there."

* * *

_**A/N: **__We'll soon be heading into the grand finale of the movie (not this story), I'm now considering writing an alternate scenario to add more danger and suspense which means breaking from canon. Except I love the canon. So, my dear readers, which would you like to see? Or should I include both? _


	25. Masquerade

_**A/N: **Thought I'd open this chapter with a fitting quote. Thanks for the faves and responses. I found them very helpful._

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_Chapter 25: Masquerade_

_We wear the mask that grins and lies,_

_It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,_

_This debt we pay to human guile;_

_With torn and bleeding hearts we smile_

_-_Paul Laurence Dunbar

* * *

She decided to keep Rosie in the dark.

Rosie only knew that Carter had enlisted the help of Helen, school bus driver and former beauty pageant queen, to assist in giving the girls from school a royal makeover and to provide transportation for the entire group to the event.

The girls were in the yard, Helen would be setting up a beauty salon inside the porch, and Carter awaited one more item to make her plans complete.

Rosie seemed different today. She smiled and laughed with the girls who had gathered at Carter's house and there was no hint of sorrow or impatience. She fit right in with everyone with her usual composure and effortless charm. And if Carter unintentionally neglected her guests, even for a moment, Rosie stepped right in and kept things running smoothly.

This has to work, Carter thought determinedly. She walked into the kitchen and found Rosie standing before the stove in front of a huge blue tea kettle. Rosie looked relaxed, wearing an orange hoodie over her shirt and jeans. For once, the two girls matched styles; Carter herself was dressed casually in a long sleeved red plaid over a cotton shirt and jeans.

"I thought you were busy giving princess lessons?" Carter questioned.

"I was. My first student proved to be very astute." Rosie smiled, nodding towards the window. "I decided to make refreshments."

Carter bypassed the window and peered out the porch screen, looking towards the dock to see Margaret. The words couldn't be heard, but it was clear that Chelsea's former lackey was putting some of the girls through some type of princess drills. She turned back, stuffing her hands in her pockets as she analyzed Rosie's actions.

"You're making tea?"

"I am. Would you like some?" Rosie poured the hot brew into a waiting cup.

"Uh, maybe later. Oh, and when you offer it to the girls, add lots of sugar."

Rosie nodded at this advice. "I will." Cradling her cup of tea, she stepped out through the porch, headed off to rejoin their guests.

Carter felt amazed at how Rosie had selflessly pushed all her concern about her home to a backburner. Even if worry still whispered somewhere in the back of the royal's mind, no one would know it. The twinkle in her brown eyes and the sparkling smile relayed only happiness. No complaint could be found. Rosie had put her whole heart into keeping her promise to Carter and helping in any way she could.

Then, Carter heard the sound of wheels kicking up gravel and ran out the door to meet the delivery truck. The awaited package had arrived on time.

* * *

Joe Mason nearly dropped his daily newspaper and his coffee-filled mug when he stepped out of his front porch and saw that his yard had been taken over by teenage girls. His trained reflexes quickly steadied the coffee mug and he thankfully avoided staining his dark blue shirt. He scanned the yard as the wind carried over girlish giggles and busy chatter. He spotted Rosie seated on a wooden folding chair in the midst of the young crowd gathered by the lakeshore. He squinted at the scene. Somebody had some explaining to do. And there came that somebody now.

Carter greeted her father brightly. She was carrying a large cardboard box.

Returning her greeting, Mason swiveled his head to study his daughter closely. She was unusually cheerful today. Perhaps Rosie was rubbing off on her. "What, uh? What are you girls up to?" he asked, trying to downplay his surprise.

"Oh, just having some friends over from school. Is that okay?" Carter asked belatedly as it occurred to her that her dad might have wanted her to ask permission.

"Yeah, that's fine," Mason said leniently. He pointed with his mug. "What's in the box?"

"Homecoming stuff," Carter replied evasively. "No biggie."

Mason felt skeptical as Carter ran over to the group by the water and received an enthusiastic welcome. Then, she turned and began talking with Rosie. In a few moments, Carter was headed back to the cabin with her box and Rosie followed.

As Carter ran into the house, Mason flagged down Rosie. He knew he didn't have the full story and Carter definitely seemed bent on keeping whatever she was up to a mystery.

Rosie paused. "Good day, Mister Mason."

Mason gestured, moving his coffee mug in a small circle that encompassed the bustling yard. "Rosie, are you responsible for all this?"

Rosie shook her head mutely and waited for him to continue.

Mason raised an eyebrow in surprise. Carter had never had a yard full of people over to the house. She simply wasn't that social. "My daughter?" He didn't finish the question, too pleased to know Carter was reaching out to others in this way.

Rosie grinned happily. "Yes, this is her idea," she said with a hint of pride.

Mason contemplated that response. "Is this that potential you were telling me about?"

There was a gleam in Rosie's eye as she replied, "No."

"No?" Joe asked in a disbelieving voice.

Rosie smiled. "I believe this is only the beginning."

"I like the way you think, Rosie." He stepped away towards the bait shack, grinning over his shoulder. "Carry on."

* * *

"Are you ready to get to work, Rosie?"

"Yes. I am ready, Carter."

"So," Carter said with a mischievous glint in her eye, surveying the bottles of nail polish, combs and brushes, cotton balls, makeup brushes and the other beauty supplies spread across the kitchen table. "Hair, nails, makeup. It looks like we have everything we need for this evening, don't we?" Carter stroked her chin and squinted, assuming a look of concentration. "Unless there's something important I'm forgetting."

"Oh," Rosie gasped suddenly struck with a thought. She had been so busy helping everyone prepare for the dance, that she had completely forgotten that she and Carter still needed something to wear.

Carter moved over to the cardboard box resting on the end of the table and opened it, displaying two lovely ball gowns.

Coming closer, Rosie cooed in delight as her trained eye caught a glimpse of the high-quality fabrics. "Where did you get them?" she asked in wonder.

"You said Elegante was the one to call in case of an emergency. Well, this was a fashion emergency."

"Carter, you are brilliant!"

"I think I'll never get tired of hearing that. Ahem. This one is yours." Carter lifted up the beautiful pastel dress on top and handed it to Rosie. "He says you look best in pink."

Rosie smiled at the thought of her distant friend as she took the gown.

"And this one is mine," Carter continued, wrinkling her nose and causing Rosie to chuckle. "It's Caribbean blue."

Rosie's laugh faded away and her brown eyes sparkled with gratitude. "Thank you, Carter. This is a night I'll always remember." She let the dress fall back into the box and stepped around the end of table, edging towards Carter.

Hearing the choked emotion in Rosie's voice, Carter opened her arms and stepped forward, swallowing the distance between them. Rosie eagerly accepted the hug and Carter smiled. A fuzzy warmth traveled down to her toes at the contact as her chin rested on Rosie's shoulder.

"I hope so," Carter whispered and hugged her tighter. A line of worry creased her brow. She hoped all would go well and make this night a joyful celebration instead of a tragedy.

Their hug was interrupted as the door banged open and Margaret poked her head inside. Several others stood behind her. "Um, are you guys ready?" Margaret asked hesitantly. "It's getting kind of late."

Carter quickly wiped the serious look off her face before Rosie could see it and put on a smile. She nodded as Helen bustled in, carrying another bag of makeover supplies. "Come on in, girls." Helen waved the girls in the doorway over to seats at the kitchen table. "Helen's House of Beauty is open for business."

Carter rolled up her sleeves and grabbed an eyeshadow brush. Her thoughts whirled, even as she assisted Helen and Rosie in giving the girls makeovers and princess pep talks.

Carter tried not to think about what might happen. Such thoughts churned up emotions like excitement, anticipation, and fear.

The teenager whipped back the fear. She attempted to arrange her thoughts to dwell only upon the excitement of today.

And also tonight.

* * *

The chaos of the past few hours had faded away and the girls from school had filed back on the big yellow bus by the time Carter stopped to take one final look in the full-length bedroom mirror. The gown Mister Elegante had sent looked amazing on her, the bright blue contrasting pleasantly with her dark hair which was now done up stylishly. Behind her, Rosie looked stunning in the pink ball gown and matching gloves. Rosie's copper brown locks were pulled up into a twist with a tail that cascaded down over one shoulder.

Carter left the mirror when her dad came to the door of the room. She shrugged self-consciously in her frilly finery. "How do I look, Dad?"

Mason's face was unreadable even to Carter. He crossed his arms. "I think we have a problem," he deadpanned.

Carter glanced down at her dress anxiously.

Mason continued. "I may have to stop calling you, 'Pal.'" Recognition shone in his eyes. His little girl was growing up.

Carter grinned. It was one of the sweetest things her father could have said and she responded by throwing her arms around his neck. As if on cue, his phone buzzed with a familiar ringtone and he reluctantly pulled away to check it. This time his forehead wrinkled into an expression Carter could easily read. _Work again._

"Aw, I gotta grab this. You girls going to be okay?"

"Yeah we'll be fine. Go ahead," she assured him. It amused her how one minute he could be complimenting her on her maturity and the next go back to treating her like a little kid.

"You sure?"

Carter reassured him again.

"Alright. Have a good time and be careful." Mason shuffled away to take the call, acknowledging Helen's entrance as he left.

Helen held two fancy masks in her hand. She handed one to Rosie and one to Carter. "Alright, Your Highnesses. Time's a wasting. The dance starts in ten minutes." Helen rushed back out. Rosie and Carter donned their masks and hurried after her.

Tonight the school bus was their carriage and the time had come for all the princesses to arrive at the ball.

Following Rosie up the steps of the bus, Carter smirked to herself.

It was strange to think a week ago, she probably would have thought nothing of bowing out of the homecoming festivities.

Now, nothing could keep her away.

_"The dance is on Friday night and there's some people I want to help."_

Those words she had spoken to Rosie were absolutely true. She meant them with all her heart. Exacting justice for the countless others who had been tormented under the reign of Chelsea Barnes rose high on her priority list. She could already imagine the look on Chelsea's face when the bus load of beautiful princesses paraded into the dance.

Carter had only omitted one tiny and very important detail. The person at the top of her list, the one she wished to help most, was Rosie.

Rosie would get to live her fairy tale, enjoying one last night of being a normal girl and attending the homecoming dance, while Carter played the part of princess.

Or, to be more exact, Princess Rosalinda.

And if Mister Elegante had been convincing enough, the dance would include one special guest who would be on the lookout for a princess wearing Caribbean blue.

So, Carter kept her mouth shut about that part of her plan, knowing for certain that neither her father nor Rosie would ever agree to go along with such a thing.

Carter was about to give the name Bait Girl a whole new meaning.


	26. A Night To Remember

**A/N: **_M__y dear readers, this update features a chapter that I split into two parts, thanks for your patience. I unabashedly admit that I look forward to hearing your thoughts on the story and I hope you like what I decided to do with it. Special shoutout to Christie, your review sparked a great idea, you'll see in the next chapter. Thank you for reading :)_

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___Chapter 26: A Night to Remember_

She first noticed it on the bus.

Everyone around them babbled gleefully, but she watched Carter stare out the window, looking lost in deep thought. Thought so deep that the teen attired in Caribbean blue didn't respond the first time Rosie called her name.

So Rosie tried a second time. Doing her best not to draw the attention of others, Rosie leaned closer to the girl beside her and whispered in her ear. "Carter, are you okay?"

Carter's head snapped away from the window. "Yes, I'm fine."

Rosie studied her friend for a moment.

Rosie's handheld mask lay in her lap, but Carter's mask held to her face by an elastic strap. It obscured the features beneath it, and Rosie had no way of discerning if she should challenge the truth of Carter's response.

Rosie nodded, silently accepting the answer. Then, she became occupied answering a question from the occupants of the seat across the aisle. Rosie satisfied the inquirers and then turned back to Carter.

The bait shop girl turned homecoming princess had joined in the cheerful chatter and nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary. In the midst of the thrill of the impending dance, it was easy to dismiss Carter's earlier mood as nerves.

The matter would have been completely forgotten.

Except it happened again.

Out on the dance floor, surrounded by swirling colored lights and pumping music, Carter appeared to lose her train of thought. Carter's mask had been removed, making it easier to see the anxiousness on her face. Though she swayed to the music, her dark brown eyes scanned the room warily.

It was not a question. Carter was looking for something. Rosie felt a frown forming between her eyes. Was Carter still hoping for Donny? After the way he had treated her?

Rosie was about to remark on it when two underclassmen appeared before them, eager to dance. For a moment, Rosie let go of her concerns and had fun dancing with Carter and the two boys. A grin spread over her face as she learned several new dance moves from Toby and Tyler, the two freshmen, and then she showed off some of her own.

Maybe because he had so recently visited her thoughts, she spotted Donny before anyone else did. A millisecond later, Carter stiffened also aware of the handsome boy in a tuxedo now headed their way.

Rosie darted a glance at Carter, noting that her mouth hung open in surprise as if Donny's approach wasn't quite real.

Donny stopped. His eyes zeroed in on Carter as he flashed his pearly whites. He breathed the self-assurance of one who rarely met resistance. "Okay freshmen. I think I can take it from here."

Carter remained frozen and speechless, stunned by the words and everything they implied.

The curly blond-haired freshman's head drooped and a shadow passed the face of his darker haired companion. Both looked disappointed as the older boy stepped cockily in front of them, cutting off access to their dance partners. Toby and Tyler stopped moving to the music and hung back, watching dejectedly. They assumed the popular boy was about to get what he wanted.

Apparently, Donny assumed the same. Carter's former crush reached out and boldly took Carter's hand in his, not even asking for the dance. It took all of Rosie's willpower not to storm over to Donny and yell at him about the way he had treated Carter. But Rosie stood still on the dance floor. Rosie became all ears, biting her lip and keeping her tongue silent.

It wasn't up to her. Carter could make her own decisions.

The contact of Donny's hand brought Carter back to life and the bitter reality of the situation. This was not a dream. She slid her hand away from Donny's grasp, looking disgusted. "No."

Rosie smiled jubilantly and watched the smile momentarily disappear from Donny's face.

Donny hadn't expected this reply. Dark eyebrows twitched upwards as he stepped up the charm. He curled his lips more forcefully, displaying his dimples like a weapon. "Carter, what's the problem? I thought we had, you know, something."

Carter didn't falter for a second. "Actually, we don't."

Donny ceased to hide his annoyance. He couldn't believe that the girl who had been fawning over him for years would actually reject him. His gaze turned accusatory. "Okay, what's up? Isn't this what you've been waiting for since, like, the third grade?"

"Never again," Carter said in a voice so low that it sounded like a sigh. Only Donny and Rosie stood close enough to distinguish the words. And just like that, Rosie knew that Carter was no longer in any danger of harm from this heartless heartthrob.

Donny looked lost, so Carter didn't hesitate to map it out for him.

"Before I put on this dress, you couldn't even remember my name." Carter steadily hammered out the words. "You asked my best friend to this dance right in front of me. And now you're here, ditching your date, because it's convenient for you?" Carter's dark eyes held no anger as she gazed at the boy she had wasted too many emotions on. She held her head high. "I might be a princess today, but I'll always be Bait Girl. And I'm proud of that."

Donny finally found the power of speech. "Carter, you're making a big mistake," he spat, looking irritated. If she didn't accept his offer, she would never get another chance.

The threat fell on indifferent ears. Carter shook her head and if her opinion of him hadn't already hit rock bottom, it certainly would have now. "No, Donny. I don't think I am."

Donny rolled his eyes, then retreated still shaking his head in disbelief. As he disappeared into the crowd, Carter let out a long breath.

It was a happy sound.

Rosie wore a wide grin and didn't hesitate to give her friend a verbal pat on the back. "You deserve better than him, Carter."

"I know." Carter smiled back at her. "Too bad it took this long to realize it." Carter noticed Toby and Tyler were standing agape at her actions. "Guys!" she called. Goofy grins emerged on their faces as the thrilled freshman happily answered her call. It didn't matter where they stood on the social ladder. Carter didn't want Donny to ruin anyone's evening.

When the song finished, Toby and Tyler ran off to brag to their friends, while Rosie and Carter made their way over the punch bowl.

Although Carter looked content, Rosie still wondered if anything, besides Donny, had been bothering her. She had an inkling that Carter's thoughts had been dwelling on things much deeper than the arrogant boy. Rosie was on the verge of voicing this question, when Carter's face became obscured as Margaret leapt into the gap between Rosie and Carter.

Margaret's thick glasses had been replaced with contact lenses. She linked arms with the homecoming princesses and smiled, walking along with them. "Rosie, Carter, I just want to thank you for tonight. I never thought I could look beautiful," Margaret explained gratefully. "Or feel beautiful for that matter."

"Oh, you are beautiful," Carter assured her sincerely.

Rosie chimed in too, adding to the sentiment in Spanish. "Eres muy bonita."

Margaret squeezed their arms at the compliment. "And thanks for not calling me Muffy."

Rosie nodded in understanding, aware of the nicknames those in Chelsea's circle had thrust upon them. She remembered how her false friends had dubbed her as "Ro".

Carter looked a little confused. She smiled nonetheless. "No problem." It was nice to see that Margaret was having the time of her life. She hoped the other girls they had come with were having fun too.

The music changed and Margaret started hopping up and down. "Oh, I love this song! Let's go dance."

"Well, why don't you two go ahead," Carter declined with a nod. "Be princesses."

"Okay," Margaret agreed, grabbing Rosie's hand and tugging her onto the dance floor. As Rosie joined the other dancers on the floor, she glanced anxiously over at Carter. But this song was popular with more than just Margaret because without warning a surge of new dancers flowed out on the floor. Rosie couldn't see through the crowd. When her line of vision finally cleared, she had lost track of Carter entirely.

* * *

"And the winner is: Princess Rosie Gonzalez," as Principal Burkle made this announcement the crowd erupted into applause. The principal grinned. He spoke into the microphone on stage. "Rosie, are you out there?"

Rosie lowered her mask, revealing her face, and the spotlight hit her. She smiled at the crowd as everyone cheered and applauded. Lifting the skirts of her gown slightly, she made her way toward the stage, wondering where Carter could be. She climbed the steps up to the platform and Principal Burkle pointed her to the microphone stand. Reaching it, Rosie turned and peered out at the crowd.

_Still no sign of Carter._

"Thank you," she said graciously as the homecoming queen tiara was placed on her head. The crowd quieted a little to listen to her words. Rosie knew it was time for a speech. It had been so difficult at first, to blend in, to act normal, but the fact that Rosie was standing on this stage proved what had been achieved. Carter had been an excellent teacher. Rosie mustered the words and began to speak. "Since I've been here, I've learned many wonderful things. Most importantly, I've learned about friendship and loyalty and trust. And that those are not things that are just given, but things we must earn. So I want to thank Carter Mason for teaching me these things." Rosie smiled softly. "And for being my friend."

Warm brown eyes scanned the crowd, but their search came up empty. The lights were bright on stage and the rest of the room was dimmed, making it very hard to distinguish faces. Rosie squinted at the audience, still trying to find her friend. "Carter, where are you?" she finally called, allowing the microphone to amplify the question. When Carter didn't immediately reveal herself, Rosie knew it.

Something wasn't right.

Rosie stepped off the stage, disappointed to find Carter did not await her at the bottom of these short steps. Her worry grew stronger with each passing second.

If Carter was missing, Rosie needed to find out why.

Lake Monroe's new homecoming queen hadn't taken two steps from the stage when Margaret sprang upon her, offering congratulations. Rosie smiled politely at her.

"That was so beautiful, Rosie," Margaret gushed.

"Thank you." Rosie nodded dismissively. "But I need to find Carter."

Right after she broke away from Margaret, another voice stopped her. "Hey, congrats, Rosie. You deserve it."

Rosie closed her eyes about to lose her patience. She started to brush Ed aside as well when he asked the right question. "Still looking for Carter?"

Rosie opened her eyes, happy that the way Ed always kept tabs on Carter might help her now. She nodded hopefully. "_Yes_."

Ed pointed. "I think I saw her headed that way."

Rosie rushed off in the direction Ed had indicated, throwing a soft 'thank you' over her shoulder.

Her search brought her outside. She ran across the pool deck of Lake Monroe's athletic pool.

A menacing voice startled her. "Hold it right there, Princess."

Rosie twisted around and found herself staring into the glowering face of Chelsea Barnes. The reflection of the yellow lights in the bluish pool water hit Chelsea's face, making her look literally green with envy. Chelsea rudely pointed a finger in her face. "My crown. Hand it over."

Rosie tried to move away from the confrontation. "Chelsea, please..."

"You're not going anywhere," Chelsea said hysterically, "until I get that crown." She looked prepared to tackle Rosie to the ground if necessary.

Rosie's mouth formed a line. She didn't have time for this. And Chelsea seemed unreasonable and more than a little crazy. _Crazy. _Rosie's brown eyes lit up with an idea_. _Carefully, Rosie lifted her crown and held it out over the pool water.

"No!" Chelsea screamed, throwing herself forward too quickly to try to snatch the crown. Rosie pulled her hand back at the last second. Chelsea missed the shiny tiara, arms flailed but didn't stop her rapid momentum which sent her flying sideways, and into the pool. The water engulfed her.

Chelsea came back up sputtering.

"Sorry," Rosie muttered, hastily putting the crown back on her head.

All Rosie heard was the splashing as she ran onwards, ignoring Chelsea's enraged cries. If Chelsea could shout like that, it meant she wasn't drowning. And as those sounds faded away behind her, Rosie's ears caught another sound that made her blood run cold.

The choppy hum of the whirring blades of a helicopter entered her ears and caused her heart to race.

And it was close. Very close.

Rosie broke into a full run while every instinct told her to turn back from the danger that lurked out there in the night. Even when her eyes spotted the men in uniforms that so often featured in her nightmares since that dark day in Costa Luna, Rosie refused to stop. Running into the school's courtyard, her eyes fixed on two figures headed towards the helicopter, a man in a dark beret and tan cape roughly dragged a masked girl dressed in Caribbean blue behind him.

_Carter._


	27. Brave

**A/N:**_ Idina Menzel's song _Brave_ partially inspired the desire to retell this story. I encourage you to listen to it. Thanks for your comments and enjoy the update.:)_

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_Chapter 27: Brave_

_If this is the moment I stand here on my own_

_If this is my rite of passage that somehow leads me home_

_I might be afraid_

_But it's my turn to be brave_

_-_Idina Menzel

* * *

He had taken her.

The evil man who had invaded Costa Luna had taken Carter.

He had removed her from a hall full of students and chaperones on school property. How did this happen? Why hadn't anyone seen it and stopped him?

The answer hit Rosie like a lightning flash, casting illumination throughout the confused corners of her mind.

This hadn't happened by chance.

Carter's sudden mood changes, her restlessness, and her insistence on making masks an important part of the event. Rosie saw everything in a new light.

_She had let him take her._

As fast as Rosie was running, the long skirt of her ball gown kept slowing her progress. She panted. Unless something was done soon, Carter would be on that helicopter, headed to a fate that could only get worse once the general discovered he had the wrong princess.

Rosie let out a gasp. "General Kane!" she yelled breathlessly.

That did the trick. General Kane half-turned at the sound of his name and Rosie ceased running as she tried to catch her breath. Instead, she drew herself up into a regal stance and allowed him to see her face.

Rosie had left her mask behind. The breeze caused by the helicopter blew in her exposed face. She blinked, trying to keep dust out of her eyes.

General Kane did a double-take. He must have been shocked to see the princess he thought he held in his clutches, standing several feet behind him.

The general's hold on Carter loosened and the Louisiana girl pulled herself free. With one fluid motion, her hands slipped off the fancy mask. She turned in Rosie's direction. A mixture of surprise and dismay glittered in her eyes.

"Well," the dictator sneered. "It appears as if everyone wants to be a princess. Unfortunately, it is time for the masquerade to end," Kane gloated.

Rosie walked slowly forward, prepared to go with General Kane and his men.

"What are you doing?" Carter asked Rosie softly in a scolding tone reminiscent of when they had first met. "The plan was working perfectly."

Carter's words caused Rosie to pause before her. They stood face to face. And out of everyone, it was Rosie who was suffering from the biggest shock. Her mind reeled from the idea that Carter had planned this in order to protect her. Rosie admired the daring, but she would never allow Carter to take her place. Rosie looked sadly into her friend's eyes. "This was a very brave plan. But this is my fight, not yours."

"You don't have to go with them," Carter objected, frowning at Kane and then looking back at Rosie.

Their eyes locked as Rosie read the silent plea in Carter's dark brown eyes.

_Don't do this. Don't go._

Carter's hands twitched at her sides and her stance was tense. She looked ready to fight. Even when outnumbered and standing right next to the enemy, Rosie still marveled at how stubborn Carter could be.

General Kane was not impressed. He waved a hand. "Enough!" His bellowing voice dripped impatience and a sharp note of warning. He eyed Carter dismissively. "As the Princesa so eloquently pointed out, this is not your fight." Kane made a sweeping motion with his arm and looked pointedly at Rosie. Despite the deceptive smile he brandished, it could not hide the hardened, malevolent glint in his eyes.

The princess of Costa Luna dropped her eyes to the ground in defeat.

Dimitri, her former head of the royal guard, and several of Kane's men stood by. She could feel their eyes on her and their presence unsettled her. They were like loaded guns, waiting to be triggered.

Dangerous and deadly.

If Rosie refused to come immediately, Kane would order his men to bring her by force. And who knew what they might do to Carter during the altercation?

Rosie warned Carter back with a tilt of her head. The princess kept her eyes on the ground, but out of the corners of her vision, she saw the way Carter's shoulders drooped. And as Rosie stepped away from Carter's side, her ears also caught a faint, shuddering sigh.

Rosie wished she could offer a word of comfort, but nothing came to mind. Reluctantly, she moved towards Kane and the waiting chopper, stepping as if lead weights were attached to her ankles.

Kane fell into step behind Rosie, he gestured towards the tinted windows of the helicopter, raising a hand to touch the door.

Kane's hand stopped in midair as the helicopter's door opened prematurely.

"General Kane," said a voice tinted with a Russian accent, emanating from the interior.

Rosie raised her eyes in recognition and amazement, taking in the sight of the Director and Major Mason sitting inside the helicopter. A grin settled onto her face, dimpling her cheeks.

"Good to see you again," Major Mason told Kane smugly and climbed out of the chopper.

"What is the meaning of this?" Kane blustered, retreating several steps from the aircraft. "You are interfering with official business of the sovereign land of Costa Luna."

Mason crossed his arms. "Maybe this will fly in your country, but here it's called kidnapping."

The Director nodded, looking comfortable in her seat inside Kane's former escape vehicle. "We're turning you over to the international authorities," she stated calmly.

"And the crown of Costa Luna will return to whom it rightfully belongs," Mason finished, nodding at Rosie.

Behind them, Carter pumped her fist. "Way to go, Dad!"

"Dad?" the general repeated, wheeling about to look at Carter.

Rosie didn't understand what was happening at first.

Before anyone could bat an eyelash, Kane lunged at Carter. He looped one arm around her neck in a choke hold and moved behind the startled teenager. With Carter's back to him, Kane whipped around, holding her against his body like a shield.

"Guards!" the Director cried to the other operatives on the scene, who were actively restraining the rest of Kane's men. "Get him!"

"Not another step!" yelled General Kane, quickly backing up and tightening his hold on Carter. Moving his other arm, he unsheathed the blade he always carried. He waved it dangerously close to Carter's nose. The arm not holding the weapon dropped from Carter's neck and wrapped around her waist.

Rosie's eyes widened in horror. The last time she had seen that pointed blade, it had been flying at her head. "Major Mason," Rosie cried out in fright.

Kane's eyes darted to Mason. "Unless you wish for me to demonstrate my skills on your precious daughter, you let me go free."

"Director?" Major Mason asked, waiting for orders. His eyes never left his daughter's.

The Director sighed, assessing the situation. "Let him go."

Steadily moving backwards, Kane soon reached the school building. Keeping himself covered by Carter, Kane pressed open a door and they backed through it.

Gone in the blink of an eye.

"After him!" The Director barked, but Rosie paid no attention to her.

Once Kane and his hostage disappeared from sight, Rosie ran towards the door, intent on following. "Carter!"

"Rosie, wait!"

Hands on her shoulders halted her. Spinning around, she found herself staring up into the eyes of Major Mason as she struggled to get into the building. He released her shoulders but held her hands firmly in his, refusing to let go. He held on gently but the underlying strength of the grip made breaking free impossible.

"Princess Rosalinda! Listen to me."

At the sound of her title, Rosie grew still. Her vision now blurred with tears, but she closed her eyes and dutifully managed to latch onto the meaning of the words being said.

Though the agent must have been eaten by the same anxiety, Mason's trained voice soothed her calmly. It seemed related to his grip, gentle yet firm. "Rosie, I need you to stay here."

"But, Carter, she, she's—" Rosie protested fearfully with a frantic glance at the door. Her lips trembled, preventing her from fully shaping the thought.

"She's _my_ daughter and I'm going to get her back. But I can't do that if I have to worry about you too, Princess," Mason said frankly. "Do you understand?"

His voice drew her wide brown eyes to look at his steely-eyed expression, causing her to recall that his job was all about princess protection. _My protection_. Rosie blinked back the tears pooling in her eyes, finding a small measure of reason and control returning. She trusted Mason's word and instantly regretted the precious seconds being wasted. Here stood the expert and her only hope of Carter's safe return. "Yes," she whispered and stepped away from the door. "Hurry!"

She felt a reassuring pressure on her hands before they were liberated. As the door swung open, a blast of cold air hit her face, sending a chill across her skin and causing her to shiver. When the draft from the door dissipated, Mason had also vanished like the wind.

The chill, however, remained.


	28. Cold

**_A/N: To all who have been awaiting an update: _**_This is for you_**_. _**_Sorry about the unannounced hiatus due to real life tragedies and unforeseen occurrences. Truthfully, I am very sad right now but writing has always helped me. Thanks for your patience, reviews and PMs are always welcome._

_Chapter 28: Cold_

Carter shivered.

It was one thing to stare at the face of evil from the pages of a magazine, it was quite another to have its incarnation dragging her roughly through her own school hallways. During the first few moments of her hostage experience, cold fear stunned her senses and held her in a paralyzing grip. Everything happened in a whirl of motion too swiftly for her brain to process.

Kane whisked her into the building and she didn't even struggle. She lost sight of her father and friend and let herself be guided by the enemy.

In all the time that her father had left for missions to protect princesses their foes had been unseen threats. The memory of rough hands around her neck and the soreness of her throat reminded her that she was in the clutches of a tangible enemy.

Rosie's enemy.

A thought pounded in Carter's brain even as she tried not to trip over the trailing edges of her long, blue dress as Kane urged her to hurry along.

_This is the man that makes Rosie cry._

The cold fear drained from her as hot anger replaced it. Carter clenched her teeth and slowed her pace, no longer content being led blindly along. Even as the anger threatened to boil over, her father's words skipped through her brain. Silently, she repeated the words in her head.

_When you lose your temper, you can end up losing much more than that and you always pay the consequences._

About to fall off the edge, Carter painfully clawed her way back to the land of levelheadedness. She refused to give in to her temper. Too much was at stake. "You've got it wrong," she mumbled, discovering her voice was hoarse. She glanced back at the general. "You don't want to do this. Not this way."

She surprised herself at how calmly the words came out.

Kane shoved her forward. "Keep moving! I have had enough of your family ruining my plans, young Mason. I will not allow it to happen again."

Carter nodded her head, using the brief pause caused by their conversation to get her bearings. They weren't headed toward the room being used for prom, but they weren't headed towards the nearest exit either.

And even though she couldn't see it, she knew without a doubt her father would be somewhere behind them in rapid pursuit. None of the other agents of PPP would know the layout of her school the way her father did. Carter felt a renewed appreciation of her father's spy skills. Which meant-

_I need to stall._

"Wait, my shoe!" Carter begged, slipping one foot out of the dainty dress shoe and sending it flying. She hoped Kane wouldn't notice the deliberateness of the action. "I can't run like this."

Kane sighed, looking down at the shoe where it had landed on the tiles. He cleared his throat and the rumble sounded like a growl.

But it was all the permission Carter needed. She hopped a few steps and then knelt down to slip back on the shoe.

Kane didn't allow the delay for long. Instead, he quickened their pace through the dimly-lit halls the instant Carter stood again.

Kane uttered a string of words in Spanish and Carter could only guess he was cursing in frustration as he discovered the maze-like nature of the school. Forced to run ahead of him, Carter took a precarious step, her foot lodged in the hem of her dress, and she fell forward as they were coming up on a T-junction in the hall. Carter's hands landed against the wall in front of her. She managed to keep from completing a headfirst dive to the hard floor.

Unhappy to be delayed again, Kane crossed his arms. "This was not my plan."

_To be a hunted fugitive? _Carter wondered silently._ Now, you now how Rosie feels._

She leaned against the wall, regaining her balance and quelling her temper. The fall had shaken her but had not lost her tongue. "About these plans of yours. You want to be king, right? Kings have to be good leaders. But I don't think you know the first thing about what being royal really means."

"And what would you know about it, little girl?" Kane sneered.

Carter crinkled her nose in thought. "Because I've spent time with a princess. And she would make a better ruler than you any day."

Kane scoffed as if Carter had told him a joke. He yanked her away from the wall and resumed their mad dash through the building, speaking proudly as they went. "Costa Luna needs a strong leader and she is simply too young. What does the princesa know about ruling a country?"

Carter frowned, freezing in her tracks. "She knows better than to be a bully. She cares about people and she wants to help them, to make make them better than they are. I know she helped me. Have you ever helped anyone like that?"

The general looked bored by her speech. "Enough of this babble! You are the one who will help me. Which way?"

Carter craned her neck to scan the hall and figure out their position now. "No way," she whispered. She began to turn around.

A painful tug on her arm brought her up short. "Enough of this insolence, girl! Or else."

Carter flinched at the threat as if it had slapped her across the face. "I meant it," Carter explained, looking at Kane directly. "There's no way. This hall...it's a dead end. We have to go back."

Steady footsteps echoed approaching their position and instantly cut off that option.

Kane panicked. He inspected the entrances of the nearby doors, finding empty, silent classrooms with rows of desks. His eyes settled upon one doorway that looked darker and smaller than the rest. Grabbing her elbow, he steered Carter over to the wooden door. "What is this?" he demanded, looking ready to strike her if the answer wasn't satisfactory.

"It's the custodian's!" Carter breathed out. Kane's nervous actions put her own fraying nerves on edge. "Nobody else uses it. It's for storage. Cleaning supplies."

Kane nodded, but his attention was fixed upon those footsteps. Hinges creaked as Kane held open the door and forcefully pushed Carter inside the small space. He quickly followed her in, closing the door quietly and shutting out the faint light from the hall.

Tall shelves loaded with cleaning supplies and other maintenance items loomed around them in the dark. The sharp, pungent scent of ammonia assaulted Carter's nostrils causing her to grimace. She had always hated that smell. A wheeled mop bucket also encroached upon the tight floor space.

The footsteps were nearly upon them now.

Kane's hand fell upon her shoulder as he stood behind her. He breathed in her ear. "Not one sound." Then, he covered her mouth with his gloved hand. It took all Carter's strength not to gag in disgust. Feeling that bony claw beneath her nose as her nostrils filled with the smell of sweat and dust made her stomach twist. The unfriendly touch reminded her of the recent hold on her throat.

The footsteps paused.

Carter sucked in a choppy breath, words burning in her throat in spite of the villain behind her. The hand clamped over her jaw kept her mouth shut.

The footsteps passed on by and slowly receded, taking with it the hope Carter held of a swift rescue.

Carter gagged as the hand finally pulled away from her and a strange hissing noise rattled in her ears. She realized with a shiver that the man behind her was laughing.

Carter coughed, clearing her throat and glaring back at the laughing general.

"Now," Kane said finally ceasing his eerie laughter. He started poking her in the back, "You will show me a way out of here and then I will decide if I let you live."

Carter swallowed hard, turning to fully face the man wearing the beret. She peered up at him in the dark. "Why don't you?"

She could hear the frown of puzzlement in his voice. "What?"

Carter gulped, but she had made up her mind. She hated suspense. "I don't want to wait. Decide now."

Leaning towards her, he raised his hand and Carter braced herself for the impact, but nothing happened. Carter opened her eyes to see that Kane had reached over her shoulder to turn the door knob. "Enough talk. Move!"

No sooner had they emerged from the supply room when a blinding light beamed in their eyes.

"Carter! Run!"

At the sound of the familiar voice, Carter broke from Kane's grasp and sprinted up the hall, back the way they had come.

Kane glowered at the retreating form. Wielding his sword, he tensed his arm muscles and measured the distance. This time he did not aim to miss. The blade cut through the air like an arrow towards its target.

Kane found himself robbed of seeing the outcome as he was tackled to the ground. His face pressed against the floor as his hands were bound behind him. "How does it feel to be brought to justice by a sixteen-year old girl, General?" Major Mason questioned with satisfaction.

Kane groaned.

* * *

It felt painful to look away.

"Princess." The Director's voice spoke in a tone that brooked no argument. "Come, sit here."

Rosie had allowed the operatives to escort her back to the helicopter, but her gaze never left the door of the school building. She was standing outside the helicopter and had ignored the initial urgings of these operatives to board the chopper.

But she couldn't ignore the words of the Director herself.

Rosie tore her eyes away from the door, the one through which Major Mason had disappeared in pursuit of Carter, and pressed back a sigh.

Inaction made her feel helpless, but the promise to Major Mason kept her pinned to this spot. She wanted to watch the door, as if focusing all her thoughts upon it would help Major Mason and Carter. She knew it was being irrational, but as the door left her sight when she abandoned her watch, Rosie felt a pinprick of guilt.

An agent helped her step into the helicopter and Rosie moved to sit beside the operational head of the Princess Protection Program. Rosie's practiced composure had flown; she barely uttered a greeting to the Director. Instead, she sat silently with shoulders slumped—Mister Elegante would have cringed at such improper posture—and she stared at the floor until her attention was drawn by an unsteady series of beeps.

The noise jarred her nerves and Rosie glanced up and shifted in her seat, watching the Director. The efficient woman was dressed in a navy blue jumpsuit over a red turtleneck and wore an earpiece in her ear. In her lap, she studied the readouts on the screen of an expensive-looking laptop—the source of the beeping. The current image being displayed was a map lit up with brightly-colored moving dots.

Rosie's curious gaze did not go unnoticed.

The Director helpfully pointed a finger at the screen. "This is our current position. And that is Major Mason's," she explained. "We are tracking his movements through a transmitter and if I give the signal, we can deploy agents to his side in moments."

Rosie's interest piqued. This trumped watching the door. This was better. Having anything to focus upon was better than the sense of helplessness weighing heavily in her chest.

The Director gave Rosie a sideways glance, noting how the princess straightened in her seat with eyes glued to the screen. "You look well, Princess. It is good to see you safe."

Rosie fidgeted at the words, wringing her hands. "How can I be when Carter is not?"

The Director clicked her tongue. "Do not blame yourself. Major Mason is one of the best. He will apprehend Kane and bring her back." When this failed to elicit a response, the Director continued. "I must admit I have been taking an interest in the particulars of your case and the reports I have received of your experience here. I had my concerns when you began but you accomplished much in such a brief time. Remarkable."

Rosie shook her head and her eyes grew misty. "Everything I did…I could not have done it without Carter Mason. We have to find her. Before Kane-"

The Director nodded. "We are doing all we can, Princess. He will not get far."

"He came for me, not her." A tear trickled from the corner of one big brown eye and slid down her cheek. "It should be me, not Carter."

"Not at all." The Director shook her head. "While I do not approve of the scheme, I believe the girl understood the risk of trading places with you. Yet this knowledge did not deter her. I find it both reckless and admirable."

"You do?"

"She must care about you a great deal to go to such lengths."

Once again the impact of what Carter had done put Rosie on the verge of tears. She inhaled and then released a breath, pressing back the storm that threatened. Rosie pressed her palms together as her hands rested in her lap. "Carter Mason is one of the best people I have ever known."

The Director smiled appreciatively at her words. "Then, it must run in the family."

A new window flashed up on the Director's screen.

"What is it?" Rosie asked anxiously.

"I am receiving a transmission from the Major," the Director replied after a moment of listening into her ear piece. "He has Kane. Good work, Major Mason. I am happy to inform you the rest of the perpetrators are also securely in custody."

"And Carter?" Rosie asked the Director, sliding to the edge of her seat.

The Director glanced at Rosie and then back to the screen, still listening. "Excellent, Major. And your daughter. We are anxious to know. How is she? I am sorry Major, there seems to be interference. Would you repeat that? Wait a moment, Major...I will put you on speaker." The Director made a connection with her headset and then pressed a button on the laptop.

A long paused followed. Finally, the connection crackled to life once more and Joe Mason's reply sounded loud and clear.

"She's not here."

His next words sent Rosie tumbling from her seat and out of the helicopter.

"I'm hoping she's headed your way."


	29. Change

_A/N: (Couldn't update. Death in family. Hurts.) For everyone reading this story, I am forever grateful to you for letting me know that you do. Glad most enjoyed the additional action, yet there's still a favorite part of the original I had to include before we hit Part Three. Otherwise, the story would end too soon. Life is like that._

* * *

_Chapter 29: Change_

Rosie's hasty exit did not go unchallenged.

Several agents started toward her as she walked away from the helicopter.

But it wouldn't have mattered if the entire PPP agency had been summoned to bring her back to the chopper. Balling her fists at her sides, the determined princess marched toward those forbidden doors.

Nothing less than Carter emerging could stop her.

And that's exactly what did.

Rosie froze in her tracks at the welcome sight of the dark-haired teen in Caribbean blue and immediately burst into tears.

* * *

Carter had been running almost blindly through hallways. Now, she found her way outdoors. She looked up and spotted her friend. Relief washed over her. Night had fallen but the moon illuminated everything clearly. Adrenaline still pulsed through Carter's system. Her heart beat so rapidly that it felt like it was pounding against the back of her eardrums.

Carter ran faster as she noted the tears streaming down Rosie's face. In her haste, Carter misjudged the distance between them and collided with the princess. But Rosie cushioned the impact, she reached out and wrapped both arms about Carter, pulling her into a tight hug. They swayed together but managed to remain standing.

Carter closed her eyes and hugged back. She felt the splash of warm tears on her bare shoulder and melted. The tenderness of the embrace stood in such sharp contrast to Kane's harshness that Carter relaxed into it, the well guarded walls went down, and, at this time, she possessed neither the need nor the desire to raise them again.

Rosie caught a hint of this new vulnerability during the ensuing silence, but attributed it to the recent danger Carter had faced. "He caught Kane," Rosie whispered reassuringly.

Carter opened her eyes as these words tickled her ear. She swallowed. Her throat felt dry. A worried look skipped across her face.

"Dad?" She mouthed the word and only the first consonant was audible, but Rosie's keen ears heard it. Aptly, she perceived the cause of Carter's concern.

Rosie lifted her head and nodded mutely dispelling the fear left unvoiced.

Carter took in a deep breath. Her father was fine. The knowledge brought comfort to her. Her heartbeat began to slow into a steady, rhythmic pattern.

Feeling the change, Rosie moved a hand across Carter's forehead, pressing strands of hair away from the dark brown eyes. Rosie attempted to read the American girl's face. "Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?"

Still finding her breath, Carter took a moment before she answered shakily. "I'm fine."

"Your dress is ripped." Rosie's fingers brushed over the cloth of Carter's dress, tracing a jagged hole recently rendered in the skirt of the shiny blue fabric. Her fingers came away clean.

No blood.

"I'm okay." Carter pulled a grin and tried to steady her breathing. "He tried. But missed. Well…Mostly."

Carter thought back to the blinding light which had allowed her to flee from Kane's grasp. She hadn't even seen him throw the sword, yet something had tripped her. The fortuitous fall to the side had kept the blade from doing more than tearing her dress, though she'd probably suffer from quite a bruise in the morning.

Rosie could only gasp in relief and wonderment. With a fresh memory of Kane holding a menacing blade to Carter's neck, she fully comprehended Carter's words despite the succinct explanation. Gratitude and amazement filled her voice. Fresh tears sprang from her eyes, but she smiled for Carter's sake. "I can't believe you would do this for me!"

Carter gently drew back a little. Dozens of moments with Rosie flashed through her mind. Rosie forgiving her so quickly after Carter had ditched her at school. Rosie standing on a chair in the cafeteria and announcing that Carter would make an excellent princess. Rosie covered in yogurt yet still managing to rise above Chelsea's cruel prank with a dignity that was awe-inspiring.

But ultimately, she saw Rosie now. Rosie, smiling and safe from the cruel treatment she would have inevitably suffered had she fallen into the hands of General Kane.

_It is a princess' job to help others._

Never had Carter understood those words more than she did at this moment.

Carter's lips formed into a smile that sprang straight from her heart. "That's what princesses do. They do for each other."

"You are truly a princess now, Carter Mason," Rosie replied resolutely. "You rightfully deserve this."

Rosie pulled her homecoming queen tiara off, reached up, and gently placed it on Carter's head.

Touched by the words and the gesture, Carter felt tears glistening in her own dark eyes. She smiled so wide that her cheeks began to ache.

"Hold it!" a voice screeched. The threatening sound snatched the smile away from Carter's lips. "Nobody move! Nobody goes anywhere."

Carter and Rosie turned to find a bedraggled Chelsea hobbling up to them. Her long black hair, still dripping wet from her unscheduled swim, stuck to her face. Her dress looked waterlogged. Runny mascara had created dark smudges around her eyes and as Chelsea drew nearer, Carter noted that Chelsea had lost the heel of one of her shoes.

Chelsea unceremoniously snatched the crown right off of the top of Carter's head. "I'll take that." Eyes glittering with an insanely gleeful light, Chelsea crowned herself, then took off again.

Rosie's jaw clenched in response and she took a step forward in protest.

Carter stuck out an arm, blocking Rosie from pursuing Lake Monroe's fallen teen queen.

"Let her go," Carter soothed the indignant princess. "She needs it way more than I do."

Anger left Rosie as quickly as it had come and she nodded agreement. They watched Chelsea limp away. Carter was right. Chelsea needed all the help she could get. She turned to share an amused smile with Carter over Chelsea's absurdity, but Carter's eyes had turned elsewhere.

Rosie followed the gaze to discover what had grabbed Carter's attention.

Her father.

Three PPP agents were gathered in a small half circle around General Kane and Major Mason. Kane looked less than happy. His hands were bound firmly behind his back and, with Major Mason dogging his every move, he didn't even glance in the girls' direction.

"You got him." Mason spoke briefly with a guard, ascertaining his bonds were firm, and then entrusted Kane over to his new keepers. The guards led Kane away.

Mason raised his head wearily and his gaze moved over to his daughter. Then, his head tilted and the corners of his mouth turned down in a somber expression Carter knew all too well.

Standing next to Rosie, Carter groaned softly. "Oh, I'm in so much trouble."

Rosie offered a smile of encouragement. She stood looking on as Carter left her side and went to speak with her father.

Carter walked over to her dad, looking up at him expectantly, prepared to face the consequences.

He crossed her arms at her approach and let out a puff of air before he spoke. "What were you thinking, Carter?"

At the sound of her given name dropping from her father's lips, Carter ventured her trademark mischievous grin. "I was thinking I'd be perfect bait. Get it? I'm Bait Girl." It was a ploy that worked in the past. But as her father failed to smile back, Carter saw that humor wasn't going to rescue her this time.

He wasn't smiling, but at least he didn't look angry anymore. "Why didn't you just come to me?"

It was Carter's turn to look serious. "Dad, you would have never let me do it."

Mason nodded at the truth of her words. Carter felt surprised when she didn't receive a scolding, and she looked at her dad and read in his eyes how scared he had been for her.

Of losing her.

"The general," Mason spat out the words, eyes falling on the rip in Carter's dress. "Carter, what if I hadn't been here?"

"But you were here." A tone of pride and acceptance rang in Carter's voice that had never existed before today. Her father's job had nothing to do with wanting to be a hero. All of her former resentment of the PPP flew out the window. Protecting the princesses of the world had everything to do with making the world a safer place. And her father was willing to risk his life to make the world safer a place in order to protect her. "I knew that you would be. You're always there for me. You rescue princesses. That's what you do."

Mason looked struck speechless. He swallowed a lump in his throat and his lips twisted into a smile. His eyes grew a little misty as he looked at his daughter. All was forgiven. "You'll always be my little princess. You and me, pal," he said affectionately.

"You and me, Dad." Carter barely had enough time to return before she ran into her father's arms. He squeezed her tightly as if he never wanted to let go.

And Carter had never felt safer.

* * *

"Are you ready to return, Princess?"

The reality of being able to return to her country hit Rosie with stunning force. Eyebrows raised over hopeful brown eyes. "I can…I may go back?" She cast a a questioning look at the Director. Most of the agents had cleared the scene. All who remained now were a select few, including the agent currently debriefing Carter a few feet away. Major Mason looked on, listening intently to every word. Rosie wished she could clearly hear the tale too, but the pesky breeze wasn't blowing in her favor and it muffled their voices.

The Director grinned. "Yes. When the news of Kane's arrest spreads, his supporters will scatter. We will stop at PPP HQ to check on the matter first, but it should not take long to arrange your secure return."

"And my mother?" Rosie asked eagerly.

The Director had anticipated this question and her grin only widened. "A reliable source tells me that she is safe. I am sure she will be overjoyed to see you. Are you ready then?"

Rosie glanced over at Carter but couldn't catch her eye. Major Mason looked up and noting Rosie's gaze, he uncrossed his arms and sent her a thumbs up. It looked like Carter's interview was nearly over.

Rosie turned her attention back to the Director as the Russian woman patiently repeated the question. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," Rosie replied firmly. Of course, she wished to return home. "However, before my departure I feel there are certain matters I must attend to first."

The Director quirked an eyebrow in curiosity. "Such as?"

Rosie searched for words, concentrating so hard that she didn't hear the approach until Carter's voice piped up helpfully beside her. "She needs to pack her things."

Rosie agreed with a dignified nod. "Yes, I should like to collect my belongings."

"But, surely, someone else can-" the Director started to reply.

Rosie shook her head, smiling as Carter and her father stood on each side of her. She valued their support. "If there is one truth I have learned from my time here, Madam Director, it is often better to do things for yourself."

The Director pursed her lips. "I believe I understand. And as a princess, you will understand me when I tell you that your country is in an uncertain state. These past weeks the citizens have been under the duress of Kane's forces. Now, they are frightened, but it is imperative that fear does not become panic."

"I understand," Rosie replied fervently. "If it is for the best, I shall return at once."

"At once?" Carter blurted in dismay. "As in right now this second?"

"Ah, Miss Carter Mason. Our hero of the hour," the Director acknowledged her. "Your actions today proved to be extremely dangerous. I hope in the future you will remember such plans should be left to the experts. Yet, while it was unsanctioned, you have allowed us to bring about the legal capture of General Kane. Miss Mason, I believe this agency owes you a debt of thanks."

"You want to thank me?" Carter asked. At the nod of confirmation from the Director, Carter lost no ground in making a request. "Then, please, let Rosie stay," she pleaded. "Please. Just for one more night."

"Director," Major Mason broke in. "I agree that the sooner we get the princess home, the better. But I do need to wrap some things up at home before we leave."

The Director shrugged. "Very well, Major. The hour is late. I see no harm if we delay the departure until morning. The details of transportation will be sent shortly. For now, go, pack. Make your goodbyes. Get some rest if you can." She looked at her agent and his charge pointedly. "I trust and expect to see both of you at Headquarters tomorrow. Stage Four must commence."

"Stage Four?" Rosie questioned. She had not forgotten how much the Director enjoyed explaining the various stages of the protection program, but she did not remember anything about a fourth stage.

"Yes," said the Director cheerily. "I did not mention it before because some of our less fortunate never see it."

"What is it?" Rosie asked anxiously.

"It is the final goal and purpose of the entire program," the Director replied, turning on her heel. "Restoration. Goodnight, girls. Goodnight, Major."

"Night," Carter murmured and then shot a triumphant look at Rosie.

As the Director walked away, Rosie said to Carter, "I cannot believe you asked her that for me. Carter, thank you."

Carter shook her head. "Don't thank me. I just...I just didn't want you to leave yet," she admitted.

Before Rosie could reply, Mason tapped Carter on the shoulder. "Time to go," he announced.

Carter looked at her dad hopefully. "Dad, can I..."

"Nope."

"But what about..."

"You have school."

"I know, but couldn't I..."

"Absolutely not. This trip isn't a vacation, Carter. It's all business. You know the drill."

Carter's shoulders slumped. Arms crossed over her chest as she sighed and gave up. "Sure, I know it." As she followed her father and Rosie to the car, she grumbled under her breath.

Bait Girl could oust evil dictators and even rescue the princess, but some things in life never changed.


	30. Home

**A/N: **_I'm back from vacation. __Heartfelt thanks to all my reviewers, you are wonderful and appreciated very much._

_Chapter 30: Home_

Carter had been silent since the car ride home and Rosie began to worry.

The packing was finished, save for the beautiful ball gowns which had been exchanged by their wearers for cotton sleepwear. The dresses would be hastily packed in the morning. Until then the extravagant adornment hung airing out in preparation for the journey ahead.

Rosie reacted to the thrill of recent events by growing even more talkative, but Carter had lapsed into an unusual silence. In the flurry of preparation that followed the return to the cabin, there had been no time to question Carter's lack of conversation, but as the hurried activities began to slow, Rosie found herself wondering more and more why Carter had become so quiet.

Major Mason wished the girls a warm goodnight, admonishing them not to stay up too late, and then had retired to his room. Rosie tried to give Carter several crucial instructions to be executed upon her departure. "And you will return the money and explain to Ed where I have gone?" Rosie paused and her words met with no response. Carter's eyes were fixed on the ceiling. Rosie began to suspect that the other teen hadn't heard a word, though the soon-to-be-restored princess had been speaking without pause for the past five minutes. Rosie raised her voice slightly. "Is something the matter, Carter?"

The Lake Monroe teen looked startled for a moment. Carter sat cross-legged on her bed. "Did you say something?" She turned her head in Rosie's direction and guilt appeared in dark brown eyes as a concerned pair looked right back at her.

Rosie frowned at the folder in her hands. "You must be very tired, I am sorry for speaking so much. I will write this down for later. It was very inconsiderate of me, you should rest and I-"

Carter vehemently shook her head, cutting Rosie's apology off. "No, no, no! I should have been listening, Rosie. I'm sorry." Carter paused awkwardly as Rosie opened and closed her mouth, looking uncertain about what to say next.

Finally, Carter sighed. "Will you keep a secret, Rosie?"

Carter did not often volunteer information and Rosie's brown eyes lit up with curiosity. Her eyes darted to Carter's and she quickly nodded.

"He threw it right at me, Rosie. I told everyone I fell out of the way when Kane attacked me. That's not exactly what happened. I think somebody deliberately pushed me out of the way."

Rosie raised her eyebrows and jumped up from her place in the afghan-covered wicker chair. The folder of items she had carefully prepared fell from her grasp and dropped on the vacated seat. "Did you seem whom?" Rosie asked, intrigued. The look on Carter's face answered for her. Rosie leaned forward on her toes. "Tell me."

Carter leaned back into her pillows, crossing her arms across her chest. "It's crazy."

Rosie tilted her head, thinking that maybe Carter had not been able to identify the person. "Perhaps it was one of the operatives on the scene," Rosie suggested helpfully.

"No." Carter shook her head. "That wouldn't make sense. An operative would have come forward and said something."

Rosie smiled in confusion. It felt like there was something Carter wasn't telling her. "What reason would someone have to save you but remain hidden?"

"That's what's so crazy."

The tone of Carter's voice betrayed her. Rosie's eyes opened wide. "So you do know the person who pushed you? You saw?"

Carter paused, looking lost in deep thought. Then, she uncrossed her arms, stretched her limbs, and answered. "No. Not exactly." Questioning brown eyes probed her for more information and Carter added, "But I...I smelled something. Something I recognized."

Rosie scrunched her nose in bafflement. "What? What smell?"

"Apples."

"Apples?"

"A perfume that smelled like apples. I'd know it anywhere."

Rosie frowned, trying to figure out the significance of this detail. "So it was a woman who saved you?"

"Not just any woman, Rosie." Carter let out a shaky breath. "It was _her._"

Rosie's mouth gaped open in shock. "Are you certain?"

"You mean, am I certain it wasn't wishful thinking," Carter said glumly. "Things happened too quickly for me to _see_ anything really. But that scent...that perfume. I didn't imagine that." Carter climbed off her bed, bending down to take a box out from under it. She had kept this, after all these years, after trying to erase everything else about the woman who had caused her such pain. She pulled out a small bottle and pressed the pump on its top.

Rosie's nostrils caught a whiff of something tangy and sweet, apples with a hint of spice.

Carter dropped the bottle back into the box and shoved it under her bed with one foot. She hopped back up on her bed.

Rosie sank onto the bed beside Carter. "Your mother?" Rosie said in astonishment. "And this is what you did not wish to tell your father? "

Carter grumbled. "What was I supposed to say? And you can't tell him either. Maybe it's just a fluke. Maybe I'm wrong."

"On the other hand, there is also a chance you are right. Why are you so adverse to telling your father? Perhaps he could help. He could use his connections. Conduct a search and-"

"No!" Carter snapped fiercely. She sighed apologetically at Rosie over the sudden outburst. "What if it's nothing? I'm not going to put him through it all over again."

Rosie thought this over and then asked, "What do you plan to do?"

Carter groaned. "I don't know."

"If it was your mother, why did she not reveal herself? Why did she come here?"

Carter shrugged and stared at the wall. "Good questions."

Rosie watched Carter for moment, catching the sense that her friend was too tired to delve any deeper into this tonight. She didn't like the emotions this matter was stirring up in her friend. "Well, whatever you decide, you have my full support. When I am queen, we will attempt to find her."

Carter turned to Rosie in surprise. "Oh no, you don't have to do that, Rosie. You'll be busy running your country and I wasn't asking-"

Rosie's eyes sparkled with a warm light and a smile spilled across her lips, halting Carter's words. "I know. But I want to."

Carter looked tongue-tied. Rosie's hand touched Carter's shoulder lightly in reassurance, but Carter stiffened, frowning. "Why?" Carter asked gruffly. Her eyes to moved to a pile of books of the nightstand. Rosie had remained an avid reader and their visit to the library had given Rosie the opportunity to check out books on a variety of subjects, including Iowa. But the book currently on top of the pile displayed a giant egg with hands and feet protruding from its rotund features leaning precariously on top of a brick wall.

"Carter," Rosie pleaded in a soothing voice. She recognized the signals that Fort Carter was about to raise its well-trained defenses, but Rosie refused to retreat. She squeezed Carter's shoulder gently. "You helped me to save my country. I believe the better question is: Why not? And your mother, whether she remained in your life or not, is important to you," said Rosie solemnly. "You deserve to know the truth about her, so I will do everything in my power to help you find out that truth, Carter. You have my word."

"You really mean that, don't you, Rosie?" Dark brows arched over even darker eyes. "You know how you said I tested people to see whether or not they'd stick around. Well, you're right. Dead right. Except it's not just about them. It's me."

Rosie's complete silence allowed Carter the strength to plunge onward. "I see people with their family. Their friends. The people that they love and in the back my mind I'll always be wondering. Questioning. Because I'm broken. All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put Humpty together again. She broke me. And that's why it's better this way. I keep people at a distance. It's the only way I can know for sure. That I won't...that I won't-"

"Do to them what she did to you? You are not your mother, Carter."

Carter shrugged, but visibly relaxed, and then ventured a question. "So, can I ask you something?"

Rosie folded her hands in her lap. She ignored the obvious quip she could have made here and nodded sincerely. "You may ask anything you wish."

"Why'd you let me get away with it?"

"I do not understand."

"When we met." Carter chewed on a fingernail for a moment. "When we met and I wasn't very nice to you. Why didn't you say something? Like to my dad."

Rosie went along with the change of subject. "I did not want to…to report your behavior to Major Mason. It would have defeated my purpose."

"And what was that?"

"To be friends with you, Carter. I wanted to have you as a friend so badly, and I did not think you would trust me if I complained to your father. You would simply continue to believe I was a spoiled princess."

"You're probably right."

Rosie gazed at her friend steadily. "You can be very stubborn, Carter Mason."

"Yeah?" Carter smirked and began to tease. "Well, you're...you're too bossy, Princess Rosalinda."

"Do not do that," Rosie whispered with a frown of dismay taking over her face.

"Do not do what?" Carter asked and immediately the smirk disappeared as she sensed the seriousness underlying Rosie's words.

"Call me that. My title. I am Rosie. With you. "

"Okay, okay. I was just joking. You'll always be Rosie. To me."

The frown lifted as the placated princess nodded. "I shall have to tell my mother that before she meets you. I would not want her to think you were being disrespectful."

"Well, I appreciate that and—Wait!" Dark eyebrows flew upwards. "I'm meeting your mother?"

"I do not see how you could avoid it. It would be appalling manners to not greet her at my coronation."

Carter's jaw dropped. "No way! You're inviting me?"

Reading the surprise on Carter's face, Rosie gave Carter an anxious look. "It will be a significant moment in my life. I want to share it, surrounded by my people, my family, and my closest friends. And you are my best friend, why would you not attend?"

"My dad," Carter gasped, still recovering from the surprise.

"I asked him."

Carter swallowed air. "When did you ask him?"

"While you were preparing for bed."

"Okay. And he said yes?"

"He will even be part of the security detail. I wish to be surrounded by those that I trust. I trust your father. And I trust you."

Carter nodded. "Okay."

Relief washed over Rosie and her former frown transformed into an elated grin.

"I'd love to come," Carter said and, before she had finished speaking, she was completely bowled over by an unexpected hug. Her back hit the mattress and the springs groaned under the pressure. The unequal distribution of weight caused the mattress to shift partly off its frame.

Abruptly, it tipped like an an upended boat. The pillows skittered off the edge and the two teenagers tumbled.

The avalanche descended to the floor with a resounding series of thuds.

Rosie quickly rose to her knees looking down in worry at the friend she'd inadvertently squashed.

"Are you injured?"

Carter's eyes were shut and her nose crinkled and her lips were moving without making any sound. She was clutching her stomach.

"Carter!" Rosie said more urgently.

Carter's eyes flew open and the sound of laughter reached Rosie's ears.

"Guess it was my turn to fall flat." Carter managed to choke out her words between peals of laughter.

"Not funny." Rosie shook her head at the girl sprawled on the wooden floor, but the rest of her words dissolved unsaid as the hilarity of what had happened suddenly hit her. Her whole body rocked with laughter.

Seconds later, the girls were cackling hysterically when Major Mason burst into the room with his fists raised as he scanned the room for attackers. The sight of his genuine alarm fueled their amusement. When all he found were two giggling teenage girls lying amidst a pile of pillows on the floor, he lowered his arms and raised an eyebrow. "Girls, " he said sternly, but wasn't able to hide the way his mouth twitched suspiciously at the corners. Nor could he conceal the twinkle in his eye. "Go to sleep."

* * *

Several hours later, Joe Mason stood poised to knock on the bedroom door when Rosie opened it suddenly.

Rosie stepped out of the room, easing the door shut behind her. "Do not wake her!" Her alarm caused her voice to change to a commanding tone. Realizing this, she quickly added, "Please."

Mason motioned her forward until they came to the kitchen. Mason stepped over to the coffee maker and leaned over it as he filled a mug with the dark brew. "I was coming to wake you girls up, but I see you're already dressed."

Rosie was dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt. She looked a typical American teenager headed for an outing. Carter had taught her well.

He straightened and set down his coffee mug. "I have to wake her before we go. It's tradition. "

"In this instance, make an exception. Yesterday was an eternity. She needs her sleep."

Mason spoke shrewdly. "I think, that maybe, you just don't want to say goodbye."

Rosie looked down at her feet. "I dislike prolonged goodbyes."

Mason nodded with understanding, knowing that Rosie was thinking of her father. But even that wasn't going to get her off the hook. He patted her shoulder as he eased past the princess, headed to wake his daughter. "Don't worry about it, Rosie. This will be a short one."

* * *

It was still impossibly early, even for the girl who was accustomed to tending the bait shop. She couldn't quite shake the groggy feeling from her brain. Carter shifted on the seat of the car. Rosie sat beside her, staring out the window. "So," Carter began.

Rosie's head turned to look at her. Warm brown eyes fixed upon her and Carter bit back the urge to cry like a five-year old does at the end of her friend's visit. This wasn't going to be forever. It shouldn't be this hard.

But Rosie was going to be overseas, living back in her home country, and Carter was staying here in Louisiana. The PPP had maintained its covert status even during the operation the previous night, and Carter's schoolmates remained under the impression that Kane's invasion had merely been extra security hired for the event.

Carter's cover story for Lake Monroe's newly crowned homecoming queen was that Rosie had been called back home to deal with a family emergency.

Carter felt her arm being nudged. "What were you saying, Carter?"

Rosie's smile forced Carter to smile back. "Oh. I was wondering what's the first thing you're going to do when you get back to Costa Luna," Carter said curiously.

"Give my mother a kiss and hug and tell her how much I missed her," Rosie replied without hesitation.

A wistful look appeared on Carter's face.

Rosie caught the expression and placed a hand over Carter's where it rested on the seat. "I am certain your mother would regret not knowing someone like you."

Carter swallowed the lump in her throat. "Thanks, Rosie."

The car came to an abrupt halt, tossing them in their seats a little. Carter's dad hopped out of the front where he had been sitting with the driver and walked around to the back. He opened the car door and lifted some of the packed items from the seat. Carter watched sullenly, knowing she had to remain in the car. "I'll call you as soon as I can," Mason told his daughter apologetically.

"Nos vemos, Carter Mason." Rosie gave Carter a parting hug and then followed the luggage. The door shut behind her.

Mason tapped on the tinted window. It rolled down, revealing the frowning face of his daughter.

"Behave yourself, Pal." Mason ruffled his daughter's hair.

"Yeah, you too," Carter replied grumpily.

Mason quirked an eyebrow. "You know, I'd let you wait until we're on the plane, but the Director was very specific in her instructions. This Agent Shaw's going to take you straight home."

"Yeah, yeah. And quiz me on the cover story. I got it, Dad."

"Good. You 'n' me, Pal?"

Carter leaned out of the window and gave her dad their secret handshake and half a smile. "You and me, Dad. Get back here quick, okay?" She popped her head back into the car and the tinted window began to roll up.

He watched silently as the car drove back up the road and disappeared from view.

* * *

The plane taxied down the runway towards their position sending gusts of air whipping around their heads. Mason looked over at the princess. "How you doing, Rosie?" he inquired, noting her brooding expression.

"It is hard to explain."

"Well, I'm all ears," Mason drawled.

Rosie kept her eyes on the plane. "When I left home, I knew I would miss my mother. What I did not expect, is how much I would feel after living here for such a brief time. How much I would feel when we have not yet departed. This is not my home, yet I feel as if I will be leaving behind something dear."

"You don't travel much, do you, Rosie?"

Rosie shook her head. "No. Not until now."

"That feeling you've got, we call it being homesick. And though Lake Monroe isn't officially your home, you've gotten to know the place and the people in it. Am I right?"

Rosie nodded.

Mason smiled down at her. "Well, my dad always said that home is not about location, it's about people, the people you care about and who care for you. Home is where the heart is. So, you'll always have a place with us here, Rosie," Major Mason assured her. "Anytime you want to visit, just give us a call. If you like, you think of us as your home away from home."

"I sincerely thank you," Rosie said with tears sparkling in her eyes.

"Well, you're sincerely welcome," Mason returned with a smile. "I mean it, anytime. And what you have done...and what you are about to do. Your father would be proud."

Rosie let the tears fall, she stepped forward and hugged Mason. "Thank you," she whispered as she pulled away. The plane had come to a halt in front of them and the door had opened. Quickly, she wiped the tears from her cheek, squared her shoulders, and climbed into the plane.

A shudder ran through the cabin as the plane left the ground and Rosie whispered a silent goodbye to Lake Monroe. As the royal princess leaned back in her cushioned seat, all sorts of emotions welled up. She had kept true to her promise to mother and her heart sang.

_Going home at last._


	31. A Different World

_**Author's Note: **_Sorry about the delay, emotions do affect my writing and I could not create the atmosphere I felt this chapter required. This is the movie wrap up! More action, drama, and suspense ahead as the adventure continues in Part 3. I am my own worst critic, but if you would like to add your thoughts, ideas, speculations, this does help spur my writing. I'll stick with it, if you stick with me. :)

_** Ad3n:**__ Rosie and Carter were very upset, but they're established friends who had to part (but not for long) and change is hard, especially in your teenage years. This chapter is more lighthearted._

_**hopelessromanticgirl**: Heart to heart talks are definitely the key to lasting friendships. _

_**Christie**: I'm learning to live with the loss, but it's hard. My best friend helped me through a lot though as have others who have shared their similar experiences with me._

* * *

_Chapter 31: A Different World_

Carter took a deep breath.

After weeks of anticipation, it felt strange and yet exhilarating to be here. The photos didn't do this place justice.

Ed gave a long and low whistle. "Wow. Just wow. You weren't kidding when you said she lived in a palace."

Carter looked over at Ed and smiled, thinking back to the moment when Ed had first discovered that Rosie wasn't her cousin from Iowa.

Carter would have liked to say that Ed had taken the news that Rosie was actually Princess Rosalinda of Costa Luna in stride. But that wasn't the case.

___Ed had given her a stunned look. "A princess?" he asked._

_"__Yes," Carter replied._

_"__You mean, not like homecoming princess. But as in princess princess?"_

___Carter was certain she'd been clear when she told him the first time. "Yes, Ed." Carter paused after each word, hoping this time he would get it. "A real princess."_

___Ed jumped around the living room, shouting "Why didn't I see it? I should have known it all along," until Carter had literally tripped him. Then, he had begun grinning stupidly from his prone position on the floor and waving the prepaid credit card Rosie had returned to him via Carter. "Guess what, Carter? Guess what?"_

_"__What?" Carter asked as she extended a hand to help him to his feet._

_"__We know a princess," Ed rejoiced. The instant he had regained his footing, he began to hop up and down. "I'm friends with a princess! Oh man, nobody's ever gonna believe this. Man, this is so cool!"_

___Carter put both hands on her hips. "You can't tell anyone, Ed."_

_"__What?" Ed whined. "Well, why not?"_

_"__Because if you tell people she's a princess, everyone's going to wonder what she was doing here. With me and my dad. And my dad's job is top secret."_

___Ed spun in a circle. "Yes, yes, yes! So cool. Secret agent for the-" Ed paused mid-spin to gesture with his hands. "What's it called again?"_

_"__Never mind what it's called. You can't tell anyone anything. I'm only telling you because Rosie asked me to. She really liked you. She wanted you to know the truth."_

___Ed did something Carter didn't think was humanly possible. He smiled even wider and nodded quickly. "Oh, ____you won't regret. I'll keep this a secret, I swear." Ed raised his right hand, emphasizing his promise. Then, he shrugged his shoulders curiously. "So, did she say anything else?"_

_"__Yes. She said thank you. And invited you to Costa Luna. For her royal coronation."_

The anticipated event now loomed upon them and the Lake Monroe teens could only stare in awe of their surroundings. Because they were here. Standing on palace grounds. Looking up at the royal palace.

Even Ed's camera hung limply from its shoulder strap as if he had completely forgotten its existence. "Pinch me. Carter. I think I'm dreaming," Ed said, but immediately regretted his request. "Ow, not so hard!"

"Real enough for ya?"

Ed rubbed his shoulder dramatically. "Yeah! That's enough."

Carter laughed at Ed, grateful for the fleeting distraction. The tomboy couldn't help but feel a little awkward, standing in the courtyard, looking up at the grand display of banners, royal crests, suits of armor, sculptures and paintings which all spoke of a history and culture she had never known existed before the princess had become her uninvited roommate. The royal guards and other palace staff walked by occasionally, greeting the visitors with nods, smiles, or even a pleasant greeting in their native tongue.

Carter's father had preceded them into the palace and Carter and Ed stood together, babysitting their luggage and awaiting his return.

Suddenly, approaching footsteps were followed by an accented voice. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you face to face, Miss Mason."

Carter turned her head at hearing the familiar voice. A dark-haired, lanky man dressed in a tailored jacket with coattails and dress pants flashed a smile at her.

Carter smiled back and took the warm hand that was offered. "Mister Elegante?"

"The one and only," Costa Luna's royal dressmaker replied, giving her hand a firm shake.

"It's nice to meet you. In person."

"The pleasure is mine. You are a national hero, Carter Mason. The story of the young American willing to sacrifice herself in order to save our beloved princesa is becoming a legend at the palace."

A chuckle floated down to them and Carter looked up to see a shorter young man polishing a beautiful stained glassed window. "You would know, Mister Elegante. You are the one who is retelling the story the most."

Carter shrugged. "I'm not a legend," she protested. "I'm just a-"

Mr. Elegante waved a long arm dismissively and then tucked a hand under his chin, regarding Carter with an assessing look that made Carter feel self-conscious. "Oh, I know, I know. Do not worry. But you are too modest. This is why I am here. To help you shine."

"Shine?" Carter asked warily.

"You will need something to wear for the coronation, no?"

"Well." Carter thought over the limited wardrobe she'd brought. It had been a concern of hers. Dresses did not take up much space in her closet at home and she had wondered if any of it would be enough for a royal coronation. "Yes. I told Rosie as much."

"And you would like something simple yet fashionable, no?"

"No. I mean yes, but..." Carter trailed off and Elegante smiled more brightly.

"Excellente! Then, come with me." Mister Elegante began to stride across the corridor, headed towards an arch and a set of stairs that Carter guessed led somewhere in the palace.

Carter remained in place, staring after him doubtfully. "I think we were going to our rooms." Carter said, reaching for her suitcase.

"We?" Elegante stopped in his tracks and noted Carter's companion for the first time. "Oh, and you must be?"

"Ed," the boy supplied. "Edwin, actually."

"Ed, this is Mister Elegante," Carter introduced belatedly.

Elegante bowed in greeting as Ed waved hello.

Elegante straightened to his full height once more. Behind him, Carter saw her father returning at last.

"So if you'll excuse us," Carter said, trying to balance the suitcase in her hands.

"No, no, no! Do not worry about your luggage." Elegante snapped his fingers and quickly came back, pulling the suitcase from Carter's grasp. "Santos, see that it gets to Miss Carter's suite."

Santos quickly scrambled down from the ladder to take Carter's suitcase dutifully. "Sí, señor!"

"¡Qué perfecto! Now, you and I have important business. No time shall be lost. Come!" As Carter was led by the hand of the chattering designer, she flung a look over her shoulder at her friend and her father.

_Help._

A light flashed in her eyes as Ed took this moment to snap a picture. Then, he had the nerve to wave cheerfully. "Have fun, Carter!"

Her dad grinned at her predicament. "Catch up with you later, pal."

Carter grimaced at them and sighed ruefully.

They were no help. No help at all.

* * *

Half an hour later Carter's feeling had undergone such a complete transformation that she could not shape them into words. "It's...it's..."

Elegante looked pleased with her reaction. He and his assistants had worked quickly to make sure the gown had the proper fit. "My creation. You like it?"

Carter appreciated the formal wear. The dress of Caribbean blue reminiscent of the prom gown was tailored to her perfectly and the fabric shimmered softly as it caught the light. "I love it."

"You have very good taste, Miss Mason."

"Nobody calls me, Miss Mason. Well, except in gym class. I'm Carter."

"As you wish, Miss Carter."

"Well, I guess that's close enough. "

Elegante assured her that her dress would be pressed and sent to her room. Then, he stepped away to give her some privacy. Carter moved behind the provided changing screen and changed back into her everyday clothes. When Elegante returned, Carter glanced at the clock. "So we done here?"

"We are finished. I will see you at the coronation. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"Yeah, can you direct me to my room? And, uh, when can I see Rosie?"

"Yes, to the first. As for the second, I will ask but our princesa is very busy the moment. If you like, I can ask someone to inform you when she is free."

Carters shrugged. "Well, if she's not busy, but otherwise don't bother her."

When Carter got to her room, a wave of disappointment swept over her. It wasn't about the room. Her disappointment sprang from the fact she had yet to see her best friend. Rosie had said over the phone that she wanted to meet Carter upon arrival, but the princess had warned that scheduling might prevent her from making the trip to the airport.

Carter took in the surroundings. Her room really was a suite. It contained its own bathroom as well as sitting area off the bedroom. Her suitcases lay neatly in the center of the area on the floor by the coffee table. Thankfully, no one had attempted to unpack them. She understood certain palace staff were to do exactly that, but Carter felt odd about others touching her personal belongings.

A knock sounded at the door.

"Uh, yes?" Carter called out.

A voice floated through the door. "Is everything to your liking, senorita?"

Carter walked over and pulled it open to reveal a maid wearing a gray dress with a white apron.

The woman nodded and took Carter's actions as an invitation to enter. Bobbing her head pleasantly, she curtseyed and then smiled. Then, her eyes moved in the direction of the suitcases. "We would have unpacked for you, but our princesa left specific instructions not to do so without your permission."

_Thank you, Rosie. _"Um, yeah. I'd like to take care of it myself. I like to take care of most things myself," Carter added quickly. _No one's going to help me prepare for bed._

The maid reached into her apron and pulled out a small pamphlet. "We give this to all our guests, it contains a map of the palace. At present, no tours are scheduled, but it may be good to have in case you lose your way. Is there anything further you desire, senorita?"

"No, thank you," Carter replied, taking the pamphlet.

The maid curtseyed once again and started for the door.

Carter's stomach growled, reminding her that the meal on the plane had been hours ago. "Wait! I am a little hungry."

"I shall inform the kitchen. What would you like to eat?"

Carter grinned. "Got pizza?"

* * *

Several hours later, Carter had changed into a comfortable tank top and shorts. She sat on the sofa with a remote in her hands, watching the local television channel. She admired the ingenuity of the PPP for while news reports of Rosie's restoration to Costa Luna abounded the exact details of her rescue remained obscure. The PPP was not named at all.

_Ding, ding._

Carter clicked off the TV, her head was aching from trying to follow the rapid Spanish anyway, and got up.

The phone in her suite actually rang a bell.

The antique piece sported a bronze bell with a clapper. Carter watched the tiny moveable parts in fascination for several seconds before she remembered their overall purpose.

_Ding, di_-

Carter picked up the receiver and her father's voice registered on the line. "Yeah, Dad?"

"Hey, Pal. I wanted to check in. Everything okay?

"Yeah, fine."

"Looks like I'm going to be up pretty late. Security briefing. But I'll see you tomorrow."

"Alright," Carter replied resignedly. She wondered if she should even ask. _Guess it couldn't hurt_. "So, how's Rosie?" Carter picked up the pamphlet the maid had left, turning it in her hands.

"She's fine. She asked me about you and I told her you had been kidnapped...by Mister Elegante."

Carter chuckled as her father continued to speak. "Rosie said that meant you were in good hands."

Carter studied the map of the palace. It named general areas, but wasn't intricately detailed, probably to maintain the privacy of the royal family. Carter decided it would not be to difficult to decipher where the personal living quarters of the royal family. Security would certainly be thicker the closer you got. But hadn't Rosie once told her a story about secret passageways? And the princess had also once described the view from the balcony of her suite. So if Carter put two and two together with the map—Of course, all this information would be useless if Rosie was elsewhere. "Where is she now?" Carter asked.

It was a valid question and didn't raise any red flags. "I think she finished everything that had to be done before tomorrow. She should be heading back to her suite by now. You enjoying yourself, pal?"

"This place is amazing. And the pizza here!" Carter made a smacking sound. "I have no words."

"It's always about the food with you, isn't it?" Mason laughed heartily. "Goodnight, pal."

"Night, Dad."

The connection had barely been cut when Carter's feet slipped into slippers. She ran to the door and looked out cautiously.

The lateness of the hour was accentuated by the fact that the halls (which had been teeming with palace staff and guards earlier) had now emptied. Carter padded out into the hall, listened attentively, and then consulted her map. She took off at a jog, pausing at the junctions of corridors and the bottoms and tops of stairs to ascertain her directions and make sure no one saw her. Whatever security meeting her dad had spoken of stacked the odds in her favor. Carter guessed most of the palace guards had been pulled from their duties to attend it. She spotted only two in the halls as she made her way through the corridors outside her room.

She slowed her pace to a stroll, hoping to raise less suspicion if she did happen to be caught.

That's when she heard the footsteps behind her.

Carter hastened her pace, darted around a corner, and slid her back up against a wall. She hoped the shadows would hide her. She waited. The footsteps clattered and receded. Carter let out a shaky breath of relief.

Carter nearly jumped out of her skin as a hand grabbed her shoulder and a demanding voice spoke from the shadows.

"_Who are you?"_


	32. Jitters

_**A/N:** Well, here's the update. Hope you enjoy it!_

_Chapter 32: Jitters_

"Who are you?"

Taken aback, the surprised teen sputtered for a moment. She could make out a tall figure standing in the shadows and the voice questioning her had been soft but masculine.

"Who am I? Well-Who are you?"

The hand gripping her shoulder dropped away. "You are American?"

"Y-yes. And you? You're French?" For the first time, Carter was able to catch the glitter of his eyes.

"How did you know?"

"Your accent. You're Henry, aren't you?"

"You have heard of me?" asked the man in surprise.

"Yes. Rosie mentioned you. She says you help her with her French all the time. And you keep pests out?"

Henry stepped away from the shadow of the wall and a nearby light illuminated his face. He appeared to be in his mid-twenties and his hair was a dark blond. He smiled with amusement and the smile reached into his blue eyes. "_Oui._ Among other things, I do." He straightened his stance, pushing himself away from the wall lazily. "My name is Robin Henry. My father is the head gardener and I assist him. My duties often involve moving unwanted creatures to locations where they will not cause trouble. I assume from the familiar way you speak of her, that you are a friend of the princess."

"Yes, Rosie—uh Princess Rosalinda...well, she's my best friend."

"She is a friend of mine as well. But why are you wandering the halls, hiding from the guards, if you are her guest?"

Carter narrowed her eyes as a thought struck her. "Why are you? You were hiding here before I was!"

Caught, Henry nodded his head. "You are a sharp one, Carter Mason. Yes, I was hiding."

"Why?"

"Because I was visiting a friend who lives here, but I did not realize how late the hour had become."

"You don't live here?"

"I live on palace grounds, but not in the palace. And today there is a stipulation that no unnecessary staff shall be within the palace after hours. It is a precaution for tomorrow."

Carter made a face. "Is that why you didn't alert the guards?"

Henry chuckled. "You are doing quite well, to have come this far from the guest suites. What is your destination?"

Carter thought for a moment, wondering if Henry could be trusted. "I'm on a secret mission, I can't tell you."

"You would not be attempting to see the princess, would you? Because if you are, I must inform you that her personal guard would not take kindly to unannounced visitors."

"Well, I...Yes." Carter kicked her toe against the tile of the floor.

Henry smiled and cocked his head, listening to the echoes of the halls. He outstretched his arm, pointing over Carter's shoulder. "That way will lead you back to where you came from. Oh, and you did not see me and I did not see you?"

Carter shrugged. "You've got yourself a deal."

* * *

The trek back proved uneventful. She reentered her room with a sigh, shutting the door behind her. She decided there was nothing left to do but find her toothbrush.

A knock sounded through the thick door. Carter assumed it was the maid returning. The palace staff were very attentive, but since her pizza plate had already been taken away after she'd devoured it, Carter felt like she was set for the night.

She stepped over to the door intending to open it just a crack and explain that she lacked for nothing, when the flung door open before she could blink. Arms wrapped around her neck, cutting off her air supply. Carter flung out her arms trying to push away, but the hold on her neck kept them uselessly at her sides.

The voice chirping in her ear stilled Carter's impulse to scream. "Carter!"

The embrace slid to encompass her shoulders as Carter opened her eyes. A curtain of hair whipped away from her face revealing a familiar pair of brown eyes sparkling with excitement and the huge smile worn by her tackler.

Carter carefully found her breath again. Now, there was no need for secret missions or passageways. "Hey! I was trying to find you."

Rosie giggled, covering her mouth to try and muffle the sound. The princess wore a pink robe over silky pajamas. "I found you first. I could not sleep and I tried to call you. The line was busy, so I knew you were still awake."

Carter glanced over at the antique phone, realizing she had left it off the hook.

Rosie looked back toward the doorway.

Carter followed the glance noted a bulky man wearing dark shades and a uniform with a headset in his ear.

Rosie turned back to Carter, introducing them. "My personal bodyguard."

"Uh, hi," Carter said.

"Victor did not believe you would still be awake."

The bodyguard simply shrugged.

"Gracias, Víctor. Esperame."

Victor nodded silently, stepped back into the hall, and closed the door.

"Is he always this talkative?" Carter grinned mischievously.

"He is very serious about his duty."

Carter yawned and asked, "Why couldn't you sleep?"

Rosie's smile trickled away. "My mind was too full."

"Because of tomorrow?"

Rosie nodded.

"You think there will be more trouble?" The remnants of Kane's supporters had either surrendered or fled once word had reached Costa Luna of Kane's capture. The attendees of the coronation were being carefully screened and PPP had agents in place to back up the royal guards.

"Yes. I mean no." Rosie paced the floor in a circle. "I am sure tomorrow will be fine and I have been preparing for this for as long as I can remember."

It made Carter dizzy watching her. "You've got a big day coming up. It sounds like you've got the jitters."

Panic ran across Rosie's face. "J-Jitters," Rosie repeated, testing the unfamiliar word. "They do not sound like a good thing."

"Yeah, they're not. You're just nervous. Don't worry. They'll pass."

Rosie completed another frantic circuit of the sofa. "How do I get a rid of them?"

Carter stepped in front of Rosie, halting the pacing. "Take a deep breath."

Rosie followed the instructions.

"Now, let it out."

Rosie exhaled slowly.

"That's good. Now, look at me."

Rosie turned to look at her friend's face.

"Smile."

"I do not feel like—"

Carter's pointer finger halted Rosie's words. "Don't argue with me. Smile!" Carter ordered.

The corners of Rosie's mouth turned upwards obediently. "Carter, I do not understand—"

"Known fact. It's impossible to think of something negative while there's a smile on your face. See, you just tried it! Couldn't keep the smile, could you? Now, smile!" Dark brown eyes sparkled with pride in her friend. "You are going to make an excellent queen."

Rosie's eyes began to sparkle. She responded with a phrase Carter had taught her."You think so?"

"I know so!"

Rosie leaned forward and was quickly wrapped in the warmth of a comforting hug. She didn't have to pretend to smile this time. "Thank you, Carter." She pulled away gently. "I have something for you."

"For me?"

Rosie pulled out a small square box from the pocket of her robe. It was tied with black ribbon. One hand held it out to Carter.

Carter balked. "I didn't...I didn't get you anything," she said guiltily. "And it is _your_ coronation."

Rosie smiled sweetly. "Your presence is my gift." She laid the small box in the Louisana native's palm, gently coaxing the other girl's fingers around it. She only let go when Carter's grip tightened around it in acceptance.

Hesitantly, Carter slid the ribbon off of the box. "Should I open it now?"

Brown eyes beamed with delight and anticipation. Dimples accompanied the eager smile that played across Rosie's face. She nodded quickly.

Carter lifted the lid and gasped at the sight. "But this is, but it's not? But it's just like…wow."

"It is a faithful replica. I wish I could wear mine during the ceremony, but it too simple for the formal occasion. You like it?"

Carter touched the locket's surface, sliding her fingertips over the smooth metal and the grooves of the engraved crest. "Yes, I love it, but...I thought only members of your family got to wear stuff like this. You know, people who deserve it"

Rosie looked Carter in the eye. "You are like family to me. And I cannot think of anyone more deserving."

Carter didn't speak for a moment, opening the locket to view the picture. The candid shot made her smile. It had been taken on a day not long after Carter had come to Rosie's aid in the yogurt shop. They were sitting together on the dock with the shining water of Lake Monroe stretching out behind them. But even the sun on the water couldn't rival the grins upon their faces. "Where did you get this photo of us?"

"Edwin."

"Of course."

"I have not seen him yet. Did he enjoy the trip?"

"Yeah. You should have seen him. On the plane he couldn't stop blabbing-"

Rosie pulled her cell phone from her pocket, deactivating the beeping alert. Rosie glanced down at a flashing message on her cell phone.

"I must retire for the night. As you have said, it is a big day tomorrow. And I must be ready for it."

Carter nodded and walked to the door with Rosie. "You'll do fine. If you get nervous tomorrow, just smile."

* * *

The day of the coronation dawned at last.

As much as Rosie said her life was not a fairytale, this day Carter would have been forced to disagree.

The sun shone, birds sang, and even the sea breeze whisked happily across the land. The clear skies appeared bluer than the dress that Carter wore as if the the day had been made to order, wrapped up, and presented like the necklace that hung around her neck.

Major Mason stood near the throne on the dais next to Queen Sofia and Rosie as a specially honored guest. He wasn't dressed as a royal guard nor as a special agent, but looked handsome in a suit tailored by Mister Elegante.

Confetti, cheers, and applause filled the air as Rosie walked along the red carpet along the line of her royal subjects. Ed towered beside Carter, his unruly dark locks tame for once and shouted as loudly as the rest of the crowd.

Then, he cupped his hands over mouth and shouted again at the top of his lungs. "Long live Queen Rosie!"

At that particular moment the roar of the crowd experienced a lull in volume and Ed's voice rang out loud and clear to be heard by most of the bystanders. Heads turned and confused murmurs rippled through the crowd. The majority of the group could not comprehend Ed's cry. Carter wondered if Ed was about to go down in history as the crazy American who didn't know any social etiquette. But if Rosie's visit to the United States had taught Carter anything, it was this: It was okay to be different.

With a small laugh, Carter stretched her arms out wide, her hands pointing towards the sky. "Long live Queen Rosie!" she yelled with pride.

Queen Sophia smiled at their exuberance and did not attempt to hush the teens. Instead, she spoke in a clear voice, interpreting the words so that all present would have no doubt about the meaning. "Que viva la reina Rosalinda!"

Taking a cue from their new queen's mother, the people of Costa Luna took up the cry.

_"Que viva la reina Rosalinda! Que viva la reina Rosalinda!"_

Rosie walked down the carpet, smiling at her royal subjects and she passed near Carter, she paused, looked into her best friend's eyes and her smile widened.

Warm brown eyes beamed with joy and gratitude as the youthful queen of Costa Luna continued her royal walk along the red carpet.

No trace of jitters.

* * *

_End of Part 2_


	33. Keep Your Options Open

_A/N: Once again, thank you for your reviews and for favoriting. Thank you Ad3n and hopelessromanticgurl for letting me see there is still interest in the story. Here's a short update, enjoy!_

* * *

_1. Assume nothing._

_2. Never go against your gut._

_3. Everyone is potentially under opposition control._

_4. Don't look back; you are never completely alone._

_5. Go with the flow, blend in._

_6. Vary your pattern and stay within your cover._

_7. Lull them into a sense of complacency._

_8. Don't harass the opposition._

_9. Pick the time and place for action._

_10. Keep your options open._

_-The **Moscow Rules** in the International Spy Museum_

* * *

_33: Keep Your Options Open_

_**Lake Monroe, Louisiana**_

_**USA**_

Carter impatiently stared at her phone, willing it to ring. She had sent a text message earlier today and had yet to receive a reply. It was nearly bedtime now and her father had strict rules about not receiving late phone calls. It had been one of the conditions of use when Carter had begged her father for her own cell phone.

They had shook hands on it. And handshake agreements between Carter and her dad might as well be set in stone.

The phone vibrated where it lay on the desk and Carter hopped up to grab it, glancing at the clock on the wall.

There were no exceptions to the rules. Even when the call happened to be coming in from a small island nation of Costa Luna. Even when the international call came from the queen herself.

Carter clicked the TALK button on her phone, breathing a sigh of relief. _Twenty minutes to spare. _"Hey, Rosie!"

"Good evening, Carter. I am sorry I was not able to call you sooner."

"Don't apologize! I know you're super busy! You're a queen who has to rule an entire country. It's just sometimes, I miss my best friend."

There was silence on the line for a moment before Rosie replied, "I miss you to, Carter. It is different not seeing you everyday. I even miss attending school. How is Edwin?"

Carter thought about how different the school year had been after homecoming. Brooke no longer hung out with Chelsea and had even stopped Carter in the school hallway one day to apologize for her behavior. Brooke promised not breathe a word about who Rosie really was, and Chelsea seemed to find her own humiliation to be enough without adding the fact that she had been outwitted by a real-life princess. Donny steered completely clear of Carter altogether and Carter didn't mind that one bit.

And Ed—he was still the same. "Ed's great. Still attached to his camera. He's thinking about going to film school."

"That profession would be perfect for him."

"Yeah. I know."

"And you?"

"Me? You know that already, Rosie. I plan to follow in my father's footsteps. Make a difference in the world. Can't let you have all the fun."

"If you think that what I do is fun, then I could offer you a job in Costa Luna."

"No thanks."

"You really wish to join the Princess Protection Program?"

"They're accepting applications right now. And dad's more than happy to recommend me. You should have seen his face when I asked him."

"Major Mason's profession is admirable. Without his and your help, I would not be where I am today. I only wonder if that is what you really want to do."

"Spend my life helping save others? Why wouldn't I want to do that?"

"It is dangerous. You might get hurt."

"Pretty much a given. The same way evil dictators might try to harm me if I were a princess or a queen. They could attempt to take over my country. At least, this way, I'll have the training to protect myself."

"It sounds lovely, Carter. Getting the education to change the life of others the way you changed mine. Just be careful."

"It's just the preliminary training program, Rosie. It's not going to be _that_ dangerous."

"If it is your dream, Carter. Truly. Then, I wish you success."

"Thanks. What's your dream, Rosie?" Carter asked curiously.

Puzzlement filled Rosie's voice. "What?"

"What do you wanna do with your life?"

"I am already doing it, Carter. I am here, serving my country."

"I'm not talking about what you were born to do. You already told me, you liked living a normal life. So, what do you wanna do? Really?"

"That's a silly question, Carter. Why should I not be happy doing what I was born to do?"

"I don't think it is so silly. Oh, come on! Tell me the truth without all the diplomacy stuff. Wouldn't you like to make a difference too? Wouldn't you like to slap all the General Kanes of world in chains, give them the punishment they deserve?"

"When you phrase it like that, it sounds very tempting and satisfying. But I know I am making a difference where I am."

Carter scoffed. "Admit it! If you didn't have anything else to consider, you'd sign up for the PPP too, in a heartbeat, wouldn't you?"

"Yes."

Carter hadn't expected Rosie to admit that so easily. She smiled at Rosie's eagerness. "So do it."

"Wha—No!"

"I think you should do it."

"Carter, I simply cannot!"

"Suit yourself."

Carter grinned as she recognized the silence meant that Rosie was struggling to remember the meaning of her American expression. She glanced at the clock again. "Well, Rosie, I gotta go."

"Carter?" Rosie's voice forestalled her as Carter's finger hovered over the button that would end the call.

"Yes?"

"The training program is at PPP headquarters, yes?"

"Uh huh."

"Then, perhaps you will be able to visit Costa Luna."

"I don't know," Carter replied coyly. "I'm going to be pretty busy. And visiting royalty might not be construed as the best use of my time."

"Carter Mason!"

Carter giggled. "You know, I'm kidding! Of course, I'll come to visit you. Goodnight, Rosie."

Rosie's laugh rang out like a bell. "Your sense of humor never ceases to amaze me. Goodnight, Carter."

* * *

The next morning Carter found her dad kneeling on the dock and examining a fishing net.

"What's on your mind, pal?" he asked, squinting as the bright sunlight bounced off the water.

Carter blinked, listening to the natural sounds of fish splashing in the water and waves sloshing against the dock. "Well, if you get called away on a mission and I'm away too…who is going to look after this place?"

Mason glanced up at her. "I'll hire extra help."

"Yeah, but you can't just trust the bait shop to just anybody, Dad." Carter crossed her arms, gazing out over the lake. "This is our home."

"It's not like we're moving, pal. Besides, I'll still be here to run it, even if you are gone. And Ed was in here asking if I needed extra help for the summer."

"You hired Ed?"

Mason moved the net aside. He picked up a towel and wiped his hands. "Someone's gotta pick up the slack while you're away."

Carter started grinning. "You're the best, Dad."

"And it won't hurt us if the bait shack is closed a little bit. We can go on summer vacations and no one around here will be the wiser."

"You don't plan to be around here much either, huh, Dad?"

Mason threw the towel over his shoulder, trying to look disinterested. "Actually, I have an assignment."

"A rescue?"

"No. I'm doing a little training."

"Like a renewed survival course or something?"

"No." Mason rubbed his chin. "I'll be doing field evaluations this year."

"Field evaluations. But the only field evaluations are for...you mean at PPP?" Mason nodded as Carter groaned. "Dad? Are you going to be one of my teachers?"

"It's outta my hands, Carter. The Director will let me know when we arrive." He looked at her. "Are you afraid I'll embarrass you? Because as your dad, that is..."

"I know, I know. Part of your job. But no, it's cool." Carter waved her pointer finger. "Uh, just no baby stories or pictures."

"I'll make no promises, but I shall try to restrain myself." He held out his hand. "You 'n' me, pal?"

Carter did their special handshake. "You 'n' me, Dad!"


	34. Gift of a Friend

_**A/N:** I'm really starting to enjoy this new phase of the story. I hope you like this chapter, my dear readers, I changed up the story telling technique a little bit at the beginning, just to keep things fresh. It does feel like my own story now. A3dn, hopelessromanticgurl and the nameless reviewer, I sped up posting this update for you. Can anyone guess what's coming up next? Well, enjoy!_

* * *

_Chapter 34: Gift of a Friend_

_She must be lost._

Raquel made this observation as she peered through the long stems of the flowers her nimble fingers were arranging into small bouquets.

The flower vendor watched the teenager pause in the middle of the street. The teenage girl was wearing a giant sunhat and carrying a dark blue backpack draped carelessly over one shoulder. Raquel took in the dark shades, the khakis, and the pale-colored sleeveless cotton top. A student visiting the country no doubt. This time of year always brought tourists of all sorts.

But if she was looking for the shopping district, this visitor had entered the wrong side of town. Raquel's flower cart normally would be in the market too, except for this special occasion. All the locals in the area knew it and more foot traffic would pass through this part of the city today because of it. Raquel prepared to profit from it, but the tourist so far from the market was an unexpected sight.

The girl in the shades crossed over to Raquel's side of the street, pausing once more to look up at the building not far from the flower vendor's cart. Raquel lay her finished arrangement aside and offered a friendly nod. "Saludos, señorita." She noted the girl did not have a map in her hand nor a camera which was very curious for a tourist. Perhaps she had become separated from her guide.

"Buenas tardes." The visitor responded to the greeting as she pulled off the dark shades to reveal a pair of dark brown eyes.

Raquel caught the American accent and quickly asked the question on her mind. "Are you lost?"

A mischievous glint appeared in the girl's eyes. The sunhat flopped back and forth as the head beneath it indicated the negative. "No. Not if this La Casa De la Rosa."

Raquel nodded, wondering if the visitor was simply doing some sightseeing. "It is. It is the home for children."

"Good. I have business here."

Raquel couldn't have been more curious. She did not want to alienate a potential customer, so she chose her words carefully."You seem very young to have business here." Idly, the vendor wondered if she should pull out the souvenir glasses and Costa Luna key chains she kept in the bottom of the cart.

An amused smile appeared upon the foreigner's lips. "I think I'm in the right place."

"But you will not be able to get in," Raquel protested. "La reina-The queen is visiting the children today. No other guests will be allowed to enter while she is present." The locals usually kept quiet about the queen's visit to La Casa De la Rosa, not wishing to attract unnecessary media hounds looking for a story on royalty.

The smiling girl leaned against the wall, taking shelter from the glaring sun, calm and cool about what should be new information to her. "I bet they enjoy her visits."

Raquel nodded. "Siempre. They always do and la reina always comes here for official visits. She comes to see what the children are eating and where they are sleeping and she always brings _dulces_ from the palace. She will not leave until she has seen it all."

"I would expect nothing less from the queen of Costa Luna. How often does she visit them?"

"Every four months. But there are other homes and the others...I do not know." Raquel regarded her listener again, suddenly suspicious. If not a tourist, then perhaps this young lady was a reporter? "If you came here hoping to see our queen, I must tell you it is better to visit the palace and ask for an appointment. She does not give _entrevistas_ to the media on days like this," Raquel spoke proudly. "Her time is for the children."

The girl in the sunhat chuckled. "I'm not here for an interview. Have you met the queen?'

Raquel replied with enthusiasm, "No. Not yet. But I wish. And whenever she is visiting, I like to come here. Maybe one day."

Pushing herself away the wall from the English-speaking visitor approached the cart. "Here. How much?"

Raquel frowned quizzically."Perdon?"

The American girl pointed to one of the mini bouquets. "For the yellow one."

Raquel waved towards the sign pinned to the top of her cart. It listed all her prices in both English and Spanish.

The visitor looked, reached into her pocket, and then her brow furrowed. "Uh, I just got here and I haven't had any time to change any money. And you probably don't take credit, do you?"

Raquel shook her head.

The visitor's face brightened with an idea. "But maybe I can borrow money from my friend. She's inside. She's from Costa Luna."

For a moment, Raquel had a vision of the queen being interrupted in the middle of her visit because someone outside wanted to buy flowers. "No, no, no!" Raquel quickly thrust the small bouquet into the girl's hands. "Take it!"

"Oh no, I couldn't."

"I insist, but do not bother your friend if she may be serving the queen. It is my gift."

"Okay, um, well. Thank you-What's your name?"

"Raquel Castillo-Ramirez."

"Gracias, Raquel. I won't forget this. And I promise you, my friend won't be bothering your queen."

Raquel felt the visitor's words were sincere, but she wondered why the girl's voice sounded ready to break into laughter. Raquel wasn't certain what this young woman had to laugh about, so she shook her head and turned her attention back to the flowers.

* * *

Moments later, Raquel's jaw dropped in amazement as the doors of La Rosa opened and her mysterious customer headed straight up the steps. One of the guards exiting the building spoke to her and then, Raquel saw a glimpse of Queen Rosalinda herself. Her astonishment grew as the American visitor was allowed to join the queen. It was too faraway for her ears to catch the quick exchange of words that passed between them, but the gesture towards the flower cart was unmistakable. Then, her vision of the two was blocked from view by more guards. The entourage moved down the stairs and filed into the cars that were waiting.

She barely recognized the sound of her own name and turned her head to see that one of the Queen Rosalinda's attendants had detached from the rest to come over to her cart. Speechless, she confirmed her identity with a brief nod.

He gestured towards the home, and then handed her a small yet heavy pouch filled with currency. The amount was far more than the cost of a mini bouquet. "Queen Rosalinda thanks you for your kindness to her friend and requests that you distribute the rest of these lovely flowers to the children."

Stunned, Raquel kept her eyes on the departing cars. "Who was that?" she asked with an awe that only grew when she heard the answer.

"Her name is Carter Mason. She is very grateful that you kept her entertained while she was waiting to surprise her friend."

* * *

_****__**A few moments earlier**_

_**Inside La Casa De la Rosa**_

"Where did you get these?" Rosie asked, looking with puzzlement and delight at the bright yellow half-opened buds of the flowers that were being handed to her. She glanced at her assistant Fernando expectantly.

"Just now, at the door. Victor did not want me to bother you, but these came for you along with a strange message." They had both been speaking in Spanish, but the assistant now switched to English in order to repeat the message verbatim. "Greetings from Bait Girl."

Rosie's face lit up with a smile and she hurried out the door.

It seemed like just yesterday that Rosie had fled the country, forced out by the betrayal of the leader of her palace guards. Happily, Major Joe Mason, special agent for the Princess Protection Program had come to her rescue.

And Rosie had hidden out in the United States under the guise of being an American girl visiting the Mason family and met her protector's daughter, Carter.

Carter had undergone a different betrayal, abandonment by her own mother, and had grown up competing against the self-entitled princesses at school. When a real-life princess had been dropped into her life, naturally she had resisted having anything to do with the royal.

Resistance had proven futile.

Rosie found Carter waiting on the steps outside.

She half-listened to Carter's quick explanation about the flowers and the kindness of the flower vendor and her smile grew. Rosie turned and whispered instructions to Fernando who had followed her out the door. He nodded at the orders and hurried away.

Then, Rosie embraced her best friend.

"Carter! Carter, how did you get here? When did you here? How did you find me? Why was I not informed of your visit?"

"Private jet. This morning. I have good connections. Well, you did invite me to come if I was ever in the vicinity. I took it as a standing invitation. May I have my arms back please?"

"Oh, of course." Rosie let go, stepping back as her contingent of guards protectively closed around them. Her personal guard Victor didn't say a word, but gave her a scolding look. Obviously, he had recognized Carter, otherwise the American girl would not have been allowed so close. "Sorry," Rosie said offhandedly.

Carter was grinning. "I've got a surprise for you and I wouldn't be able to give it to you otherwise. Are you done here?"

"Yes, and I have the afternoon free," Rosie announced.

Carter's eyebrows flew up. "You're kidding me!"

Rosie tapped one of her personal guards lightly on the shoulder. "Javier, cancel my appointments for the rest of this afternoon and reschedule them for tomorrow."

Carter laughed heartily and shook her head. Popping in unexpectedly on Rosie like this, she had known it was likely that Rosie would be performing her necessary duties. "No, don't change your plans for me. You don't have to."

"Yes, I do," Rosie insisted. "And they are not changed, merely postponed." She folded her hands to her chest, hugging her flowers. "It is so good to see you, Carter."

"It's been too long," Carter agreed.

Victor gave the signal and the two friends were ushered into the waiting car. The conversation flowed freely between them as they caught up on the happenings in each of their busy lives. Finally, when the car had deposited them safely inside palace grounds, Rosie remembered Carter's earlier words.

Her curiosity ignited. "What did you want to give me?"


	35. The Surprise

_**A/N:**_ _Dear loyal readers, thanks for sticking with this story. Ad3n, hopelessromanticgurl, and NoName, I truly appreciate the feedback. It motivates me. Things in this chapter seem pretty bright but, don't be fooled, there's still a storm brewing. Enjoy!_

* * *

_Chapter 35: The Surprise_

Carter yanked at the strap of her backpack. "Tell you what. Let me get out of this tourist getup, and then, I'll show you."

Rosie and Carter walked through the courtyard. Victor trailed behind them at a respectful distance.

"Alright." Rosie's eyes traveled over the huge sunhat, the dark shades, and the khaki shorts that made Carter look as if she were about to go on safari. The only thing missing was binoculars. Russet brown eyes filled with mirth. "May I ask why..."

"Oh this?" Carter looked down at her outfit. She couldn't help noticing how it contrasted with Rosie's attire. Rosie wore a lovely short sleeved dress, Persian pink as Rosie would describe for her later, and a golden tiara. Her copper brown locks had grown longer than what the former princess previously had worn during her time in Louisiana. "I'm practicing," Carter explained, removing the sunhat and fanning herself with it. "And it's super hot here."

Rosie's brow crinkled in bafflement. "Practicing _what_?"

"You know." Carter gestured vaguely. "Blending in."

"But this," Rosie spread her fingers like a fan and indicated Carter's ensemble. "I am afraid it does not do what you intended," she informed gently. "Indeed, it does the opposite."

Carter's face fell. "Really?"

"If you wish not to draw attention, you should dress more like a native."

"But I sound like an American."

"Your accent has lessened since your first visit. If you are still concerned, find reasons not to speak Spanish. You look as if you could be from Costa Luna."

Rosie made good points. Carter felt a little embarrassed that she, daughter of Major Mason, hadn't thought of them. A groan escaped her. "Oh."

"From the climate you live in, I would think you are used to the heat."

Briefly, Carter was thrown by the subject change and then she accepted it gratefully. Rosie was never one to rub things in, even when she was right. "Heat, yes. But the sun never seems to let up."

"Costa Luna is much closer to the equator."

"No kidding."

Rosie stopped to regard her friend thoughtfully. "Change into something cool," Rosie replied smoothly. "Then, join me for refreshments."

Carter's grumpiness fled at the mention of food. "Is that an order?" she asked playfully. "Because I believe _you_ cannot order _me_ to do anything."

A grin flashed between the two girls as memories danced in the air around them.

_I order you to stop._

_I order you to take a long walk off a short pier._

Brown eyes twinkled with silent laughter as Rosie answered warmly. "It is my kingdom, is it not?"

* * *

Carter quickly swapped her tourist garb for a pair of light blue jean capris and a purple tank top with a thin short-sleeved blouse over it. She grabbed a folder from her backpack and hurried back to her appointed meeting spot with Rosie. A circular wire mesh table had been set underneath the inviting shade of palm trees and positioned near the palace pool. A cooling breeze flowed through so that the midday heat felt more bearable.

Carter lay the folder beneath her chair as platters of chilled fruit, fried chicken, and a pitcher of _agua fresca_ made her stomach remember how long it had been since she had last eaten. Rosie ate as well, telling Carter stories of her head chef and how he responded when she sometimes requested certain American foods like PB & J.

Carter caught the curious glances that Rosie cast in her direction. The Costa Lunan was wondering about Carter's surprise, even if she was too polite to ask again. Carter finished a final glass of her _agua de limon_, promising herself she would request the recipe later, and decided there was no longer any valid reason to stall.

She set the glass aside and then dropped her napkin onto her emptied plate. "Remember how we talked about joining the PPP?"

"Of course, Carter. I assumed that is why you are here."

"Well, it is." Carter paused nervously. "And remember how you're always saying you're really, really busy. Too busy to do some of the things you would like to do."

Rosie blinked, giving Carter a confused frown, sensing there was more behind those innocuous words than met the eye. "Yes."

"Well." Carter took a deep breath and then cleared her throat. _Here it goes. _She retrieved the dark blue folder, set it on the tabletop, and then slid it over to Rosie. Carter poured confidence into her words. "Understanding your busy schedule, I took the liberty of submitting an application for you."

"You." Rosie's eyebrows flew upwards in astonishment as Carter's words fully registered. She opened the folder and scanned the documents therein, looking like she was searching for the punchline to a joke. She didn't find one. "What?"

Carter spoke faster. "And with your mad language skills, you were a shoo-in. Hopefully, I remembered them all. French. Japanese. Spanish. English. It's exactly what an international program was looking for. If I left anything off, I'm sure you can always add it."

Rosie's brow furrowed. "I also speak Portuguese."

"Portuguese!" Carter snapped her fingers. "Ah, so that's the one I forgot."

"That is beside the point!" Rosie's palm lightly slapped the table. "I do not know what to say to you right now, Carter Mason."

"You don't have to say anything. All you need now is a written consent from a parent or legal guardian." Carter offered a familiar smirk. "Just say yes."

"Carter, you know it would be impossible for me to—"

The voice of her mother interrupted. "Rosalinda, quisiera hablar contigo." Queen Sophia glided down the walk towards them and stopped, standing to the right of Carter's chair. Carter quickly popped up from her chair and politely offered it to Sophia.

Rosie's brown eyes widened as the queen waved an official looking document in her hand. "Si, mama?" she asked in a hushed tone.

Queen Sophia accepted the seat and sat across the table from her daughter. Acknowledging Carter's presence, she spoke in English. "I received this letter from the Director of the PPP. I am not surprised that Joe Mason's daughter would pursue such a course, but you applied for the training program as well, mija? You wish to become an agent?"

Rosie looked behind her mother and could see Carter was bouncing up and down, mouthing the words. _Just say yes. Just say yes. Just say yes._

Rosalinda shot a warning look at Carter. Her voice was even and calm as she replied, "An application was sent in my name. Yes, this is true."

Carter quit bouncing and began to smirk. Rosie hadn't said no yet. This was a very good sign.

Oblivious to Carter's antics, Sophia fixed an inquiring look on her daughter. "Do you wish to enter the program?"

Rosie looked down at her lap. "I know I have many responsibilities here, mama, and I understand my first duty is to my people."

It wasn't exactly a denial, but Carter decided to jump in. "Which is why Rosie wants to learn as much as possible to protect them. Knowledge, after all, your majesty, is power. And especially after what happened in Costa Luna before-Imagine, if a queen had the necessary training and all the access to all the resources of the PPP. A potential threat to the country could be thwarted even before it was launched. You wouldn't have to wait for a bunch of political red tape and nonsense. How cool would be if royalty could protect herself?"

Queen Sophia smiled at Carter's flood of words and then gazed at her daughter affectionately. "If this is what you have your heart set on, mija. You must present your wishes to the royal advisory board. There is still time, you are still very young, and the more you learn of the world outside of Costa Luna, the better you will be able to care for the needs of your country. I see no reason why you cannot take a sabbatical. We are not living in the dark ages. Many royal families require their children to go to college and to study abroad. I will call a meeting. We will present this proposition and come to a decision. I only want what is best for my daughter."

Queen Sophia nodded and hurried away, presumably to set things in motion.

"Wow." An amazed whistle flew from Carter's lips as she settled back into the chair. "That was easy."

Rosie leaned forward and whapped Carter's arm in a very unladylike fashion. "I cannot believe you did that!"

Carter reacted by rising again. She shrugged and threw her hands up in a surrendering gesture. "Hey, it wasn't me. It was your mother." Carter shook her head. "Who knew she was so forward thinking? Looks like she's going to get the ball rolling."

Rosie stood up and skirted around the table. "Stop it, Carter. They won't ever agree to it. I mean, a queen, training to be a…a…"

"An international super secret spy? Of course, they wouldn't. And the PPP likes to keep who is working for them a secret as much as they like to keep the secret of the program itself. Your mother read the letter. She knows that. Didn't you hear what she said, Rosie? She's going to ask them if you can study abroad."

"This may be so. Still, I do not think they will agree. Do not raise your hopes."

"What about your hopes, Rosie? Since when did you become such a pessimist? Stranger things have happened. We'll just wait and see. When is the big meeting?"

"I am sorry, Carter. No matter when it is, you will not be able to attend it. This will be a private meeting and as such, it is closed to public viewing."

"But I want to know what happens!"

Rosie looked Carter in the eye. "I thought you said this was not about you."

"Okay, so it is a little bit," Carter admitted. "Who wouldn't want to work with their best friend?"

Rosie couldn't help but feel a little imposed upon, because if anyone other than Carter done this-Only Carter would have dared do something this impulsive. "How could you sign me up for something I never agreed to?"

Carter took a step forward. Dark eyebrows arched. "I don't remember being asked when you nominated me for homecoming queen."

"Because...because I knew that you would be excellent! You would have never tried it on your own!"

"Ditto."

Rosie sighed. "You can wait outside the conference. I will come and tell you the results when it is finished."

Immediately, Carter's pout vanished. "Sounds like a plan."

Rosie gave her a pointed look. "This is your fault, Carter Mason."

"I know. I take full responsibility for my actions, Your Majesty."

Rosie narrowed her eyes and made a face. "You're the only one I know who makes a royal title sound so, so…"

"Goofy," Carter supplied.

"Yes, goofy." Rosie agreed. "And is not even my proper title."

Carter shrugged and shuffled her feet like a clown. "I know. Well, goof is my middle name. Thank you. Thank you very much. It's a gift." Carter gave several mock bows, followed up by a very Rosie-like curtsey.

Rosie was not amused. "I am serious, Carter Mason. You must know I cannot abandon Costa Luna. I need to make a difference. I have no desire to abdicate my throne."

Carter threw up her hands as if to block the royal glare directed at her. "Whoa! Nobody's asking you to do that, Rosie! Just wait and see."

"You started this!"

Carter's crossed her arms over her chest and tapped one foot. "Well, you can stop it. Go tell your mom that you don't want to do it. I won't stop you."

Rosie bit her lip, looking down the path her mother had disappeared. She didn't move and all traces of her ire fled. Finally, she shrugged and turned to Carter in defeat. "I cannot."

Carter snapped her fingers and then pointed with both hands. "I knew it!" she cried.

Looking upwards, Rosie smiled softly. Twiddling her thumbs, she listened to whistle of the wind sweeping through the palms trees. Then, her gaze moved back to Carter as she echoed her friend's words. "Stranger things have happened."

* * *

The doors swung open and the young queen of Costa Luna appeared.

Carter hopped to her feet, rubbing her hands in anticipation. "So what did they say?"

Rosie's face looked pale. Her eyes were distant and a little glazed.

Carter's hands dropped to rest on her hips. "Was it that bad?" asked Carter with alarm. She hadn't meant to cause any trouble.

Silently, Rosie shook her head back and forth. Then, she nodded.

Carter mirrored her actions. "No. Yes? Well, which is it?" she asked, impatiently.

Rosie still seemed dazed.

"Rosie?" Carter waved a hand in front of her eyes. "Earth to Rosie."

Rosie let out a shivery breath. She murmured the words so low that Carter barely could hear them. Her ears caught one whisper.

"_Deyifthoef_."

Carter shook her head at the nonsensical noise and leaned closer. "What? Can you repeat that?"

"They said yes!" Rosie screamed.

Carter nearly fell over. Then, she began jumping up and down. "Yes? They said yes? Yes!"

Carter's enthusiasm infected the usually prim royal. She grinned like the seventeen-year old she was. The shock began to wear away and suddenly Rosie was feeling the excitement. The utter thrill of possibilities.

"They said yes!" Carter crowed and Rosie laughed. Carter grabbed her shoulders and kept bouncing up and down, forcing Rosie to jump with her.

"Come on," Carter said, managing to halt her jumps of joy. "Let's go tell my dad the good news."


End file.
